Under the Snake's Skin
by ckret2
Summary: Ever since he was a little boy, Orochimaru felt different, and it showed. Called many names by many people, most unpleasant, the one he most longed to hear was girl. Unfortunately, he'd rather die than let anyone know, and this tore her apart.
1. Queen of the World

A/N: I honestly have no idea how this will be received, so I cross my fingers now. Much much thanks to the lovely Ricchan for giving me the inspiration I needed to write this and for continuous support.

Warnings: this will go very, very in-depth into issues of gender, sexuality, and transsexualism. No, there will NOT be mpreg or anything vaguely similar; I'm striving for scientific accuracy here. This fic will follow the canon plot as much as possible, as a backstory of sorts.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the Naruto world; Kishimoto does. I own a smattering of OCs, and the plot itself.

* * *

Under the Snake's Skin

Queen of the World

* * *

"My, if he isn't just the sweetest boy I've ever seen!" gushed another of the endless relatives, beaming down at Orochimaru and stroking his head. He just stared up at her – was she another aunt, or an older cousin? – as she said, "Shinja-san, I declare, I've never seen a little boy his age this well-behaved! How do you do it?"

Now that the attention had been directed slightly away from him, Orochimaru took the opportunity to duck behind his mother's leg, where he could peek up at his relatives from a safe distance. He'd come over here to find his mother because his boy cousins were playing pretend-ninja outside with sticks for kunai and he didn't want to play. Besides, he preferred being around females anyway. This bothered his father, but his father was outside helping barbeque pork for the holiday dinner.

It wasn't often the Yashagoro family (at least the bit that was made of Orochimaru, his mother, and his father) left Konohagakure. Pretty much the only time was for the Nations' Founding, the celebration of the day the Great War ended and the five great shinobi nations were formed, years before the shinobi villages were even formed within their nations. On that day, they left Konoha for the weekend, traveled to a little village in the southern Land of Fire called Kinme no Sato, and stayed there with his father's family through the holiday.

But this was the first Nations' Founding that Orochimaru could remember. He had only been three last year, and didn't remember any of these strange relatives in the least. And now they were all cooing at him and trying to pat his cheek and stroke his hair. He endured it as best he could by staying silent and just staring at them.

"Yes, Shinja-san, it's just amazing!" said another lady, somehow managing to stretch a grin at both Orochimaru and his mother at the same time. He stared back. "When my oldest was his age, he just wouldn't be quiet. He was either getting in a mess or fighting other boys or playing ninja in the house. Though Orochimaru-chan is going to be the real thing someday, isn't he?"

Shinja, Orochimaru's mother, smiled patiently and put her hand on his shoulder, guarding him from the other relatives. "He's always been well-behaved," she said. "I didn't have to do anything, really. He just came out like that."

"Well, I declare!" exclaimed the woman who had been stroking Orochimaru's hair. "You're very lucky, Shinja-san."

"Boys are never so calm at this age. I'd almost think you had a daughter!" another woman said.

The relatives tittered nervously, thinking that perhaps the joke was in bad taste. But Orochimaru smiled widely for the first time since arriving in Kinme no Sato.

He didn't mind the comment at all. In fact, he preferred being compared to girls to being compared to boys; he just didn't think he had as much in common with boys, no matter what his father said. Girl things were just more fun.

The conversation had turned away from Orochimaru, and Shinja was listening without really caring. She wasn't related to these people, after all. Orochimaru, however, was a bit tenser. His father had come in and spotted him with the ladies.

"Mama, can we go?" he asked in a whisper, eyeing his father nervously.

She looked down at him and said, "Go where?"

"You know," he said, hopping nervously from one foot to another. Time for some fast thinking. "You promised, Mama."

She raised her eyebrows a bit, evidently with no clue what Orochimaru meant. Most likely because he didn't mean anything. "Can you wait a while? We're having lunch soon, Orochimaru."

"Mama!" Orochimaru said impatiently. Too late; father was coming over.

"All right," Shinja said with a sigh. She scooped Orochimaru up. "Where to?"

"The room?" Orochimaru offered, meaning, of course, their guest bedroom.

Noticing them stand, an aunt asked, "Oh, Shinja-san. Going somewhere?"

"Ah, yes, I need to get something out of our guest room," Shinja said, nodding at Orochimaru as explanation. "I hope you don't mind?"

"Oh, of course not. We know what a mother's life is like," the aunt said, looking vaguely irritated. She'd been relating an anecdote about her own rowdy son when Shinja had stood. "Do come back soon, now."

Shinja nodded as a way of excusing herself, and Orochimaru eagerly rode in her arms to the hallway.

But it was too late all ready. Orochimaru's father intercepted them, a smile fixed on his face. "Were you leaving, Shinja?" he asked.

"Hello, Dakatsu," she said. "I think Orochimaru's getting tired of hearing all these ladies talking. He asked me to leave."

No, no, that wasn't true. Orochimaru didn't want to leave the ladies. He would rather be sitting with them than anywhere else, except maybe playing with his girl cousins upstairs, but father wouldn't let him. That was why he'd tried to leave before his father could catch him.

"Is that so?" Dakatsu's smile relaxed into a more natural one. "Do you want to come out back with me, Orochimaru? You won't have to listen to the others out there."

No, Orochimaru wanted very much not to go outside. But he couldn't say that. At four years old, he already knew when he was supposed to just keep his mouth shut. So he was silent as Shinja handed him over to Dakatsu.

"You're getting heavy, you know!" Dakatsu said, chuckling as he carried Orochimaru outside. His father smelled like raw meat and grease and fire. "Some day you're going to be a big tough boy, aren't you?"

Orochimaru thought about that – as he did every time his father suggested it – and he felt slightly scared every time. Without answering, he watched over Dakatsu's shoulder as the safe haven of his female relatives was left behind.

His father put him down outside and told him he could go play with the other boys, and then turned back to the grill with the other men. Orochimaru stood rooted to the spot where he had been set down.

In front of him was a mob of wild children he could barely identify as human, who were currently playing pretend-ninja. Their clothes were disheveled, smeared with dirt, torn, rumpled, wrinkled. Their hair was short and choppy, wild, matted with grease and leaves. And they were all shouting and red-faced and sweating and throwing themselves at each other like they wanted to break each other's necks with the force of their own weight. Most of them looked angry. These were the boys he was going to "play" with?

The men were no better. Unlike the women inside, they weren't really talking together; they were a bunch of individuals working independently who shared this common interest in burning the flesh of the pork. He wouldn't receive any sympathy from them. If he went away from the boys and towards the men, he'd find no protection. They might not even notice him.

So Orochimaru kept standing alone, until one of the boys playing ninja notice him.

He'd just thrown a rock at a boy who was looking the wrong way, then glanced up and saw Orochimaru. He stared at him a moment, as if he couldn't quite tell what he was seeing, then gave up all pretext of crouching behind a bush for cover and ran up to Orochimaru. "Hey, are you playing?" he asked curiously.

Orochimaru didn't want to play, but he knew what the proper answer was. "Yes," he said.

"Why are you standing over here?" the boy asked.

"I'm in disguise," he said. "I'm spying on everyone." It was a good lie.

"You don't look like it. You're just standing here," the boy said, frowning. This, this was enough to annoy him?

"I'm a good spy. You didn't know I was playing, did you?" Orochimaru challenged.

The boy thought about that a moment, then shrugged. "Okay, you're on my side."

Oh great. There was no getting out of this now. "What do I hafta do?" Orochimaru asked softly, resigned to his fate. It seemed he'd just have to get used to the fact that he was going to fight an imaginary war.

"Spy on the enemy," he said, pointing at something among the mob of fighting boys. For the life of him, Orochimaru couldn't tell what. "They're the Spider Village, and we've gotta kill them. Find out their plans and report back to us."

Kill them! Orochimaru thought that was going a little too far. But he nodded anyway. "What are we called?" he asked.

"We're the Cro-co-dile Village," the boy said proudly. He'd obviously never heard the word before that day, which was fine because Orochimaru hadn't either. Back to giving orders, he pointed at a tree overlooking the war zone and said, "Climb up there so you can get a better view, okay?"

Orochimaru frowned. "I don't wanna sit in a tree!" he protested. He'd get bark all over his clothes, and while he didn't really like his clothes – they were jinbei, a shirt and pants, rather than a simple kimono like he usually wore – he didn't want to get dirty.

"You gotta if you're a spy. Come on!" the boy said, and suddenly shoved Orochimaru. Startled, he stumbled and fell.

"What was that for?" Orochimaru said, sitting up. He'd scraped his hands and his left knee. "I didn't do anything!"

The boy stared at him for a moment, startled, before he shouted, "I was trying to get you to move!" He glared at Orochimaru angrily. As if he was the one who'd been shoved down. "What are you doing down there?"

Orochimaru stared at the heel of his hand, watching the scraped skin start to bleed. His hands and knee stung with pain, and now he had dirt on him. What had he done to deserve that? It hurt! He thought he was supposed to be playing with this boy!

It was quite a bit more than his four-year-old mind could comprehend. He started to cry.

"What's wrong now?" the boy demanded, crossing his arms. "I just pushed you, you sissy."

Some of the other boys were starting to drift over, to see what was going on. "Who's this?" an older boy asked. "Did you push her over or something?"

The first boy gave the older one a bewildered look. "'Her'? He's a guy! He's wearing pants!"

"Girls wear pants sometimes. And her hair's too long to be a boy," another kid pointed out. "What did you do? You're not supposed to push a girl."

"But he's gotta be a boy! He said he was playing ninja with us!"

"You moron, haven't you heard of a kunoichi?"

Evidently he hadn't. He stared at the other boys blankly. Orochimaru was just looking up at them, trying to wipe his hands off on his pants. That just made them hurt more.

"Besides, boys don't cry unless they're sissies," another kid pointed out. The other boys nodded in agreement.

Orochimaru felt his tears start to flow faster at this, and he ducked his head again as his face heated up and started to turn red. Why was he out here? Why couldn't he go inside and play with the girls upstairs? He didn't want to play ninja, he didn't want to obey these violent boys, he didn't want to be called a sissy...

"Hey," one boy said, standing in front of Orochimaru. He looked up. "What are you, a wimp or a girl?"

The boy said it like they were the same thing. But Orochimaru knew there was a difference. He also knew which he'd rather be called.

He said, "I'm a girl." The tears stopped coming. And then she smiled.

The boy that had pushed Orochimaru onto the ground turned a vivid shade of red. "You should have said something," he muttered.

"So you'll be a kunoichi," one of the other boys said. Orochimaru nodded. The boy looked at the others in confusion. "What do kunoichi do?"

"I can be a spy," Orochimaru offered, since it was the only job she knew of so far that didn't involve fighting.

"No, girls can't spy," one of the older cousins said – and since he was older, his word was law. "Girls are medics. Can you do that?"

Orochimaru thought a moment. "Sure." She wouldn't have to fight, and maybe she could do something about how dirty the others were.

"She's with the Crocodile Village!" another boy declared.

"No way, Spider Village wants her! We don't have a medic!"

And thus the battle broke out anew. Orochimaru ended up being medic for whoever next yelled for her help. That lasted until the boys realized she was a double agent, at which point she was chased, to be imprisoned and held as hostage. Orochimaru ended up having to climb the tree after all to escape them (she was surprised to learn she was the only one who could figure out how to climb it).

She was stuck up there until she declared that she was a princess from Spider, but she'd married a warlord from Crocodile, so they had to come up with a treaty because of her marriage. After agreeing on peace, the boys started trying to figure out who, exactly, had the honor of being the warlord married to a princess.

Orochimaru had quite thoroughly taken control of the game. The war was over, the boys were being civil again, and now they were trying to heal themselves and were starting to choose warlords and kages instead of simply killing each other. She had to admit, she was quite pleased with the way the game was turning out.

The game had been completely rearranged, altered so that it flowed around her, bent to her every word. From her vantage point up in the tree, Orochimaru really was starting to feel like a princess.

"What's all this about princesses and kunoichi, Orochimaru?"

The sharp voice snapped Orochimaru back to reality. Dakatsu was glaring up in the trees, and the other men were standing behind him, grinning bemusedly. His face was red with embarrassment and anger, and he looked about prepared to murder.

"H-hello, Father," Orochimaru said weakly, terrified. And in hardly a moment, he had lost control of everything again.

"Orochi-maru? Isn't that a boy name?" Whispers coming from the boys below. Orochimaru started blushing again instantly, and felt tears well up, but forced them back.

As father always told him, and made sure he remembered, boys don't cry.

"Get down here," Dakatsu snapped. Orochimaru meekly climbed down from the tree and walked through the stilled mob of boys to his father.

As he passed one of the older boys, around eight or nine, he put his hand on Orochimaru's shoulder and said, "Don't worry, Orochimaru-hime. If he does anything to you, the Crocodile Village will protect you."

"Thank you, Waniji-dono," Orochimaru whispered, and walked on. Waniji was the Crocodile warlord who'd married the Spider princess.

He stopped in front of his father, head low. He could hear the other men laughing; one said, "You've got one hell of a kid, Dakatsu. Good luck with him."

Dakatsu crouched down. "Orochimaru, look at me."

He didn't look up.

"Orochimaru!"

That time, he jerked his head up, standing ramrod straight. Father was glaring at him; cold yellow eyes widened with anger, the serpentine slits of pupils barely a line in his iris. "You know exactly what you were doing, don't you?"

Orochimaru blinked fast, trying not to cry. Boys don't cry. "Playing ninja, Daddy."

"And pretending to be a girl?"

It wasn't pretending, it wasn't pretending. "No, sir."

Dakatsu's eyes finally narrowed again. "You know what this means, don't you? When we go home Mama and I will have to punish you again."

Orochimaru let out a small squeak of shock, and he had to blink even faster to hold the tears in. There was only one thing father did for punishment, when he thought Orochimaru wasn't acting like a proper boy. His hands quickly reached up to run through his beautiful long hair. It was the only part of his entire body that he liked. "Daddy!"

"It's for your own good, Orochimaru. You have to learn your lesson somehow."

No. No. Boys can't cry, and Orochimaru had been told he was a boy. He squeezed his eyes shut, bowing his head, letting his hair fall in front of his face. He wouldn't be able to do that with his hair again for a long, long time.

"Man, Dakatsu, what have you and Shinja been doing with him?" Another bemused voice. "Is he always like this?"

Boys can't cry, Orochimaru thought, as tears started to slide down his face again. He covered his mouth as he broke into sobs. Where were Waniji and the Crocodile Village to protect him? Boys can't cry.

As he cried, Orochimaru hated being a boy.

* * *

A/N: Please, please tell me what you thought. I've no idea what anyone will think of this idea. I hope it'll be something new. Criticism is very much welcome, as are praise, questions, and flames. (Yes, flames. I'm easily amused.)


	2. Speak No Evil

A/N: I wasn't going to post chapter 2 for a while, but someone reviewed saying that it was a good story, but they doubted that it would get a sequel. I'd like to point out that the fic does NOT say completed, it is not a full story, and is far far far from being finished. That's kinda like watching Naruto to the end of the Zabuza arc and saying "Oh, that's the whole thing, right?" So, I'm posting now to clear things up: the first chapter wasn't a one-shot, it was a beginning. And now, it continues.

Thanks for all the reviews for the first chapter! Please, keep telling me what you think! (Especially if anyone who has any sort of expertise on the subject of transgender studies has any advice.) Thank you!

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or its characters; I own this fic and all the stuff in it. The quote from Madeline in this chapter was on genderpsychology . org

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Chapter II

Speak No Evil

* * *

_I now knew boys and girls are different in essential ways. And I wished I was made of the stuff girls are made of. But there was a worse, almost paradoxically different lesson I was learning: being a boy is better than being a girl._ – Madeline H. Wyndzen

* * *

As part of Orochimaru's punishment, his father told him to go back with the other boys and play the "right" way this time. No princesses, no peace treaties, no medics, no kunoichi.

Forty seconds into standing sullenly in the area that the Spider Village seemed to be dominating, Orochimaru decided that if he couldn't be what he wanted to be in this village, then he was going to be a missing-nin.

Orochimaru seemed to be quite a good ninja after all. Heart beating so hard he could feel it in his ears and rushing through his fingertips, almost light-headed with fear that his father would see him, he dashed away from the mob of pretend ninja, past the men at the grill, and back into his grandparents' house. No one paid attention as he silently ran along the walls and into the nearest bathroom.

He locked the door, upended a small wastebasket, and stood on it so he could pull himself onto the sink. He wanted to have one last moment with his beautiful, long hair before they went home and his father cut it all off.

As much as a four year old could love something that wasn't a relative, Orochimaru loved his hair. It was the only part of him that he thought was really right. It was the same color, the same texture as his father's hair, but it was the length of his mother's. And when he could look at his face close like this, and all he had to focus on was his eyes and his hair, Orochimaru could almost imagine that she was... but, he wasn't.

He knew there was something wrong with him. He _felt_ wrong. And whenever he tried to do something to fix that, everyone told him to stop. They told him to do the wrong things and told him they were right and _he_ was wrong. Orochimaru couldn't remember a time in his young life when he hadn't been confused.

Someone tried to turn the doorknob, and when it didn't open, said, "Hello? Is someone in here?"

"I am," Orochimaru yelled back. It sounded like a man's voice, but he didn't recognize it.

"Oh, sorry kid," the man said. "Hurry up, dinner's almost ready."

"Yes sir," Orochimaru said. He slid off the sink, missed the wastebasket, but landed on his feet anyway. He'd always had fantastic reflexes; father said he'd make a great ninja one day. His mother said Orochimaru didn't have to be a ninja if he didn't want to, but Dakatsu claimed that no son of his would grow up to be a civilian.

Orochimaru washed the blood and dirt that was still on his hands from when he'd been pushed down, then got a wad of tissues wet to wash off his knee. Before leaving the bathroom, he carefully turned the wastebasket upright, put all the things that had fallen out of it back in, and added his tissues to the trash.

The Yashagoro family celebrated the Nations' Founding with a feast, as it had for several generations – or so his father had told him, not that Orochimaru knew what that meant. He and his parents had gotten to the house last night, and today everyone was busy preparing the meal, including the barbecue pork his father was helping grill. Now it was about lunchtime, so they should be ready soon.

When Orochimaru came out of the bathroom, everyone was heading into the large common room, so he followed. There were three tables set up: a long one and two smaller ones.

"I was wondering where you'd gone off to, Orochimaru."

Orochimaru looked up and smiled. "Hi Mama." He stretched his arms out to be picked up, and Shinja obliged.

"We're about to start eating," she said.

"Can I sit by you?" Orochimaru asked.

Shinja shook her head and gave Orochimaru an apologetic look. "I'm sitting at the adult table. The children are either eating at the boys' table and the girls' table."

The good mood he'd gotten at seeing his mother quickly disappeared. He knew which table he'd be placed at. Already the boys and girls were starting to claim seats at their separate tables, some of them with their plates filled.

"Let's go get your food," Shinja said.

There was no point in complaining. What could he do? Besides, if he complained, that would only make his father mad.

He nodded silently, and let his mother carry him.

* * *

Everyone was sitting except Orochimaru.

He'd put off finding a seat as long as he could. Now he was the only one standing, while everyone else had begun to eat. He stood in the doorway of the room, unnoticed, looking at the boys' table and the girls' table.

Already, two of the boys had started shoving each other. Orochimaru did not want to sit there. The girls had refused to play with him earlier, so maybe they wouldn't let him sit with them. But he had to try.

He was clinging to his plate with both hands, holding so hard they were trembling. He walked slowly over to the girl table and stood awkwardly next to it. Now what?

The girls had been talking together, but the moment they noticed Orochimaru they stopped and looked at him – glared at him – expectantly. He didn't know what to say.

"The boys' table is over there," one of the girls said, pointing. And that was that. Orochimaru had been rejected. He ducked his head so he wouldn't have to look at them and walked over to the boy's table.

As he left, he heard one of the girls whisper, "Freak."

At the boys' table, it took them a bit longer to notice Orochimaru standing there. He could have just sat down, sure, but he didn't want to. He didn't belong at this table.

The pack of boys stared at Orochimaru blankly a moment, obviously more befuddled by his presence than they were bothered by it. "What are you doing over here, Orochimaru-hime?" one of them asked.

At least they recognized that he didn't belong here. Maybe he could get them to talk to the girls, and he could sit with them? If they explained...

"Orochimaru."

He looked up at his father's voice. He was watching Orochimaru from the adult table. He wouldn't get to sit with the girls today.

Orochimaru turned back to the boys and said in a voice soft enough that his father wouldn't hear, "I want to sit with my husband."

They nodded in acceptance. Some threw jealous looks at Waniji as his "wife" pulled up a seat next to him and sat down. Once more, Orochimaru was accepted as the kunoichi of the group, and Dakatsu didn't have to know a thing.

Maybe Orochimaru hadn't gotten to sit with the girls. Still, she tried to console herself as she scooted closer to her "husband," things could be a lot worse.

* * *

They went home the next morning, riding in the cart of a farmer headed in the direction of Konoha. While his mother and father stayed in the front, Orochimaru sat with his legs dangling over the back of the cart, running his fingers through his hair. It would all be gone soon, and there was nothing he could do about that.

He didn't understand. He tried so hard to be something his father would like... what did it take? Orochimaru looked down at the ground passing underneath the cart, and sighed.

He noticed for the first time that he had his ankles crossed together, the way other ladies did. It felt right to him, but somehow he knew it was something his father would hate. So Orochimaru uncrossed his ankles, spread his knees apart a little – turned around to look at the farm boy driving the cart for reference – slouched down, and crossed his arms. This was how other boys sat. It was horrendously uncomfortable, but his father would think it was right. Orochimaru sat that way for the rest of the ride to Konoha.

When they got off the cart, Orochimaru's spine had so many kinks he could hardly stand straight. Shinja noticed immediately. "Orochimaru, are you all right?" she asked as they walked into the gates of Konoha.

"My back hurts," he said, keeping his eyes low. He didn't want to look at his father.

"Oh, sweetie, how did that happen?" his mother asked, alarmed, crouching down to put a hand on his back. "Where does it hurt?

Now the two jounin guards at the gate were looking. Orochimaru didn't want their attention; he was trying to blend in. "It's fine," he said.

Shinja hesitated. Orochimaru never tried to exaggerate or understate the way he was feeling. He didn't hide it when he was in pain, but just a moment ago he had said his back hurt. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah. I'm okay," he lied.

Shinja was about to say something, but Dakatsu, carrying their luggage, proudly said, "That's my boy," and patted Orochimaru's head. A jolt of pain shot along his neck. "You're not bothered by a little bump or two, are you?"

Orochimaru wanted to shake his head, but remembered how he'd seen other boys shrug exaggeratedly with one shoulder, so did that instead – and immediately received another jolt of pain for his efforts. His father was satisfied and his mother trusted Orochimaru, so the issue was dropped as they continued into the village, towards home.

He felt awful, and not just because his back was in pain. If he were going to convince his father that he didn't need to be punished, he'd have to act like the other boys. So he was trying to watch the people passing on the street, imitating the way they walked, the way their arms swung, paying attention to the way they spoke so he could copy that later... It was hard to watch others, walk, and think about walking all at the same time. Orochimaru hated this, pretending to be someone else.

But if it would save him from punishment...

By the time they got home, the pain in Orochimaru's back had lessened a little, and he had almost figured out how to walk like a normal boy. Dakatsu opened the door to let Shinja in, and as Orochimaru went through, he suddenly said, "You're getting to be a big boy, aren't you?"

He had noticed the act! Orochimaru was relieved. "Yes, Daddy," he said.

"Good," Dakatsu said, nodding. He shifted his grip on the luggage and said, "Big boys don't worry about their hair, do they?"

Oh no.

"As soon as we finish unpacking, you're getting a hair cut, all right?" Dakatsu said, as if it were a reward, heading away with the luggage.

Oh no, no, no. That wasn't supposed to be how it happened. Wasn't he supposed to get what he wanted when he did the "right" thing? He was trying to do just what his father wanted! This was his reward? Another punishment?

Orochimaru leaned against the front door, now shut, running his fingers through his hair one final time. It was barely past shoulder-length from the last time his father had cut it. His spine still throbbed, and his throat felt like someone's hand was closed around it as tears filled his eyes. Some reward!

"Orochimaru?" His father's voice calling, looking for him so he could do the deed. "Where did you get off to?"

He came into the entryway and discovered Orochimaru in the exact place he had left him, albeit sitting on the floor and crying. Dakatsu simply sighed. "What is it this time?" he asked, walking towards Orochimaru. A pair of scissors shone in his hand like a double-bladed dagger. "Come on, you've needed a hair cut for weeks anyway."

What would have happened if Orochimaru had refused?

"Yes, Daddy," he whispered.

* * *

Orochimaru took his punishment like a man.

He did not kick, scream, or try to escape. He stood still in the kitchen, his spine ramrod-straight, while his father cut off his hair. He did not squirm or try to scratch his back when the trimmings slid between his clothes and his skin. His hands did not tremble very much when Dakatsu made him sweep up the trimmings on the kitchen floor with a broom that was nearly two feet taller than he was.

He did not cry until he was in his own room and the door was shut.

Under his bed, Orochimaru had a fairly large collection of dolls. He kept them hidden because his father did not like him to have them. Out of sight, out of mind. He only took them out when he was scared or upset, and this would be one of those times.

His favorite doll, a giant plush monkey named Iwazaru-san, was hidden as far from the edge of the bed as Orochimaru could push it, shoved up to the wall that the bed was pressed against. He crawled underneath his bed, burrowing through his other dolls to Iwazaru-san, and pulled it out from the mass. As he did, several other dolls were pulled out from their hiding places as well, but he really didn't care. Orochimaru sat in the space between the foot of his bed and a corner of the room that was blocked from the door, just big enough to hold a kid his size. He attempted to wrap his arms around the giant monkey, buried his face in its fuzzy blue fur, and started to sob.

Most children, even the ones that grow up to be ninja, even the ones that are destined to be legends feared by all who hear their name, are not very alert. They tend to not notice when someone new comes into the room. Even when that someone is several feet taller than the child, and furious.

This can be very bad for the child. Especially if the child likes talking to its toys.

When Orochimaru's father walked into the room, he was whispering to Iwazaru-san, his only confidant; anyone else would refuse to listen, look at him strangely, or tell him to act differently. "I hate my hair. It's too short," he said. "I hate my face." Too much like his father's. "I hate my clothes." Too masculine. "I hate my body." Simply built with the wrong model. "I hate..." Myself.

He stopped, letting out another sob. "Why can't I be pretty?" he whined to Iwazaru-san. "Why does Daddy want me to be tough? I'm not..."

Orochimaru's arm was seized and he was hauled to his feet, forcing him to drop Iwazaru-san. He looked up, terrified. "Daddy?" His voice was barely a squeak.

Dakatsu's face was completely stony, completely blank; his eyes were wide with rage, so wide the whites of his eyes almost blended with the white of his face. "Orochimaru. What are you doing?"

"I... I was just..." He could hardly whisper. "I was... playing..."

Terror made his voice die and his eyes water. How much had his father heard? His vision was a blur.

"I see." Dakatsu's voice was perfectly even. He reached down and picked up Iwazaru-san by the tail. "Do you play with other children that way, Orochimaru?"

"I... I... no. No, sir."

"Good. Other boys don't play like that." He gave Orochimaru's arm a tight squeeze, so it was almost painful but not quite. "You're getting too old to play with dolls anyway."

"No!" Orochimaru twisted in his father's grip, reaching out to grab Iwazaru-san. "You can't!"

"Why not?" Dakatsu snapped.

"I want him!"

"No one cares!"

That stopped Orochimaru cold. "I do."

"Too bad," Dakatsu said. He crouched down to eye level with Orochimaru, clamping his free hand on the child's shoulder. "Listen. You're going to have to grow up. You're going to learn that nobody cares what you want. You're going to do what _they_ say. That's what being a ninja is."

Orochimaru was silent again and he refused to look his father in the eye. Now his arm did hurt; his father's grip had tightened. He tried to say "yes, sir" but couldn't form the words.

Dakatsu stood again, letting go of Orochimaru. "If you're not going to grow up on your own, I'm going to have to show you how." He left the room, carrying Iwazaru-san. It was the last time Orochimaru ever saw the doll.

Rather than risk the life of another doll, Orochimaru hugged himself instead, crawled onto his bed, and shut his eyes. Normally he'd get out a new doll, make sure he'd hidden himself better, attempt to keep alert for his father's presence, and resume his childish confessional.

But, he thought, curling into a ball and sniffing noisily, his dolls didn't even care about him.

Thus were Orochimaru's pity parties transformed into a party of one.

* * *


	3. Beads and Lace and Everything Nice

A/N: My gods, I'm getting so many reviews. Wow. Thank you, thank you so much! Special thanks to the C2 that's added this fic, Proof of Research. And now chapter three, where a couple of fairly familiar characters will be introduced...

Disclaimer: Previous disclaimers apply. The paraphrased quote below is from transsexual . org

* * *

Chapter III

Beads and Lace and Everything Nice

* * *

_I was desperate for cute toys, but I became far too frightened to even ask anymore. But one toy was my dreams come true._ _This was too much for my little girl self to help. It obsessed me like Jihad to a Muslim_. – Jennifer Diane Reitz

* * *

Almost all children in Konoha were latchkey kids by the time they were three. If both parents were ninja, they couldn't be expected to stay home and take care of the children, so as soon the children were old enough to walk and make simple meals, they were expected to care for themselves while their parents were away. Besides, it was generally accepted that if these children were to be killers before they'd hit puberty, they could take care of themselves at a younger age.

Orochimaru's earliest memory was of the first time he'd been left home alone, just before his third birthday. He had panicked and searched the house dozens of times, looking for his parents for almost three hours before falling asleep on the kitchen floor. Since then, his mother had stored a blanket and pillow on the bottom shelf of the pantry, just in case.

Now he had been staying home alone nearly every day for almost a year and a half, and was much calmer about the whole deal. His father had given him a key so he could leave the house if he wanted, on a simple white string. The string had gotten frayed and broken within a month, and Orochimaru had replaced it with green yarn.

Since then, whenever he was bored, he went looking for something new to hang his key on. He currently had it on a cord made of a pink ribbon, a purple one, and several strands of rainbow yarn – he'd braided the cord together himself. However, a couple of days ago he'd seen several girls with homemade bracelets, made with yarn and beads, and Orochimaru thought they were the prettiest things he'd ever seen in his life.

Today, he was looking for beads.

His parents got up around six for breakfast, and left cereal out for Orochimaru to feed himself before they left at seven. Orochimaru woke up at eight as usual, ignored the cereal, and carefully scaled the pantry shelves to get at the waffle syrup on the top. He couldn't reach the waffles in the freezer without knocking something over so he just had syrup on toast. This was his typical breakfast, with the untouched cereal set outside for the neighborhood cats to eat before his parents came home. After all, ninja were supposed to be able to provide for themselves.

With his breakfast finished, Orochimaru left the house, locking the door behind him with his key on its cord of ribbons and yarn. He put the key and cord on like a necklace – he'd always wanted a necklace – before running down the street to head for the shopping district. Hopefully he could find a nice shopkeeper who'd be willing to give him a few things for free. That was how he'd gotten his pink ribbon, several weeks ago.

It was late summer, almost time for school to start. Not that Orochimaru had to worry about that for another year. But soon all the kids on the street wouldn't be there for most of the day while they were in class, which meant Orochimaru would have the village to himself with the other children too young for school.

For a four-year-old, Orochimaru knew the stores fairly well. He could tell which ones sold food, clothes, weapons, and other things, and when he was looking for something in particular he could judge fairly well by looking in the windows whether or not the store had what he wanted.

He soon found a cloth store, one where he'd taken some scraps of yarn in the past, and wondered if maybe they'd have some beads there too. He walked inside and wandered near the walls, looking at the items for sale. He couldn't tell what most of the items were, but knew most of them were cloth, and the rest were random pointy things – needles and such.

Finally he located a wall covered in little containers of beads against the back wall. Excited, Orochimaru ran up and surveyed the selection. There were all sorts of beads on the wall – flower-shaped, star shaped, some with little engravings or paintings, hundreds of different colors and sparkles or shines or glitter... Orochimaru couldn't pay for any of them, of course, but he could take any that weren't packaged.

He crouched down on the ground, peering around to see if there were any spilled beads on the ground. Those, as far as he was concerned, were free to take. But whoever worked here must have been fanatically clean, because the only beads Orochimaru found were ugly square orange beads. He absolutely hated the color orange.

Disappointed, Orochimaru stood up and headed for the door. Maybe he could find another store with beads in it. He fingered the beadless braiding on his cord and sighed.

As he was heading out the door, someone grabbed his shoulder. "Hey, you. Got a minute?"

Orochimaru jumped and turned to face the person speaking. "What?"

It was a kid about his age, with white hair and red marks coming down from his eyes. "Look, I seriously need some help," he said. "Can you..." He suddenly stopped, frowning as he looked at Orochimaru. "Hey, are you a boy or a girl?"

Orochimaru blinked. "Excuse me?"

The kid studied him closely, leaning into his face. Orochimaru leaned back. "You've got a kimono and a necklace and your face looks kinda girly," he said. "But it's kinda boyish too, and you've got really short hair."

Self-consciously, Orochimaru reached up to touch his hair. "It's usually a lot longer," he said. Now it wasn't even the length of his thumb. He felt like someone had hacked it off with a kunai, which was pretty close to the truth.

"So you're a girl?" the kid asked. He looked again at Orochimaru's clothes. "But your kimono's got closed sleeves. That's a boy kimono."

Rather than answer the kid's question, he decided it would be best to introduce himself. He didn't want to lie but he didn't like the truth. "I'm Yashagoro Orochimaru."

The kid nodded decisively, as if that cleared it up. "I'm Goketsu Jiraiya. Can you help me?"

"Help you what?" Orochimaru asked, crossing his arms. The other kids usually thought he was weird and avoided him. Why didn't Jiraiya?

"I need to take some photos," Jiraiya pulled out a disposable camera, "but they kicked me out of the store. Can you go in and take them for me?"

Orochimaru frowned. If they'd kicked Jiraiya out, wouldn't they kick him out too? "Why should I?"

"Uh..." Jiraiya searched his pockets, and then pulled out several crumpled pieces of paper. "Here. My sis gave these to me. Does that work?"

Orochimaru took the papers. They were six hundred-ryou bills. Money. He could buy beads with them. Excitement rose in him. "Okay," Orochimaru said, pocketing the money.

"Thanks!" Jiraiya said. He suddenly grabbed Orochimaru's shoulder, startling him, and said, "You have no idea how much you're helping me. Okay, take the camera and go to the cashier in the back – you know where that is?"

"Yeah," Orochimaru said.

"Great! Get some photos of the guy working there. My sister sent me to take some, but I got caught," Jiraiya said. "She said he's 'damn sexy' or something like that. What does that mean?"

Orochimaru shrugged the way he'd seen other boys shrug. He had no clue.

"Ah, whatever. Just get those photos." He handed the camera to Orochimaru and shoved him back into the store with a "Good luck!"

Orochimaru wondered why boys always pushed each other around. With a sigh, he headed to the back of the store.

He decided that he should buy his beads first, before taking the photos. That way, if he were kicked out he'd already have his prize. So he went to make the hard decision of which beads to buy.

As far as he could figure, since he had six bills, he could buy six packages of beads. That was how money worked, after all. He looked over the selection twice, then chose one of metal beads with the Konoha symbol, one of simple pink hearts, one of multicolored star-shaped beads, one of sparkling purple beads, went back to get another package of pink hearts, and then was stuck for what his sixth package should be.

He looked all the way up the rack, craning his head back to see. Orochimaru doubted that he'd actually see something he wanted...

His gaze caught on a flash of silver, and he was transfixed. He stood on his toes to see better. Just barely within the reach of his fingers was a small bag, containing only five or six beads; each one was in a thin crescent shape, with a ring set off-center inside each crescent. Orochimaru had never seen prettier beads in his life. He managed to pull them off their hook and study them closer. They didn't even look like plastic. The beads were probably made out of some cheap metal, but to Orochimaru's eyes they were pure silver.

Happily, Orochimaru took his six packages of beads and 600 ryou to the cashier. Remembering his mission, he took out his disposable camera, scrolling the wheel so he'd be ready to take a photo as soon as the opportunity arose.

The cashier was probably seventeen or eighteen years old, with deep blue shoulder-length hair. "Is this all?" he asked, taking the six packages that Orochimaru had placed in front of him.

"Yes sir," Orochimaru said. He put the 600 ryou down as the cashier checked the prices of the beads. The prices went by on the cash register – 300, 300, 600, 400, 300, 1200. Orochimaru watched calmly. He had six bills and had taken six packages, so surely that would cover the price.

The cashier looked at the price, then at Orochimaru's money. "I'm sorry, you can't afford all this," he said.

Apparently, Orochimaru thought, this guy wasn't very good at math.

"You can put some back and get one or two packages," he suggested. "You can afford any of them except..." he singled out the package of silver beads Orochimaru had chosen last, the ones worth 1200 ryou, "... this one."

That one?! Out of all them, the only one this guy wouldn't give him was the one he wanted the most? How typical. The cashier apparently noticed the look of consternation on Orochimaru's face, because he laughed.

That, Orochimaru thought, would make a wonderful picture. He lifted his camera and snapped a photograph. The flash went off, momentarily blinding the cashier. Orochimaru took the opportunity to grab his six packages and run, leaving the 600 ryou behind. He needed to pay, after all.

"You brat! Hey! You're with that white-haired kid, aren't you?" The cashier vaulted over the counter between him and Orochimaru – crap, he was a ninja – and chased him, furious. "Give me that camera!"

He was doomed if the cashier caught him. So in mid-run, Orochimaru pivoted around and snapped another picture, with the flash going off again. This wasn't enough to slow down the cashier for more than an instant, so he tore open one of his packages of pink beads and spilled them on the floor. The cashier slipped, fell, and Orochimaru escaped the shop.

He ran all the way across the street before he figured he was safe. He was still trying to catch his breath when Jiraiya came up. "Did you get them?"

Orochimaru nodded, handing Jiraiya the camera. He cheered. "You're awesome! Hey, if you ever need anything, just let me know! I owe you one."

"Is that so? What did you convince him to do, Jiraiya-kun?"

Orochimaru and Jiraiya looked up at the man standing over them, who was smiling amusedly. He looked at Orochimaru. "Do you have anything to say, Orochimaru-kun?"

He gaped at the man. He'd never seen him before in his life.

"Hi, Sarutobi-san," Jiraiya said innocently. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you two the same," Sarutobi said. He looked at Orochimaru, who hid his beads behind his back. His father would never let him have the beads, Orochimaru realized. What if this man told him about them?

"Did you pay for those, Orochimaru-kun?" he asked.

"Yes sir," Orochimaru said softly. He'd been cheated, too. He'd left 600 ryou and spilled a bag, so he'd only got five packages. How rude.

"We're just taking some pictures," Jiraiya said. "Inside there." He pointed at the cloth store.

Sarutobi sighed. "Does your sister have another crush?" he asked Jiraiya.

"Maybe?"

"I swear," Sarutobi muttered. "I've never met a girl who likes boys as much as that Goketsu Kokona does..."

"She calls herself a connoisseur of the masculine physique," Jiraiya informed Orochimaru proudly. Orochimaru didn't know what that meant and suspected Jiraiya didn't either, but it certainly sounded impressive.

"Ask Kokona-chan to go easy on whomever she's after right now," Sarutobi told Jiraiya, then turned to Orochimaru. "Tell Shinja-san I said hello, would you?"

Orochimaru nodded.

Sarutobi said a farewell to them both, with an extra admonishment for Jiraiya to give to his sister, and walked off with his hands clasped behind his back.

Jiraiya rolled his eyes. "He's only in his twenties but he acts like he's someone's granddad," he sneered. "That's what nee-san says. She doesn't know what the First and Second are thinking, choosing him as a successor."

Orochimaru had thought Sarutobi was nice, so he didn't respond. He didn't want to get in a fight. "Thank you for the beads," he said instead.

"The what?" Jiraiya looked at the beads Orochimaru was holding. "Is that what you bought?"

Orochimaru dropped his gaze from Jiraiya's eyes. He couldn't let someone else know that he wanted the beads. He somehow knew that it was wrong.

Being not particularly knowledgeable in the finer points of social interaction, Orochimaru removed himself from the situation in the best way he could think of; he turned around and ran as fast as he could, clutching his beads to his chest.

* * *

By the time Dakatsu got home (most of the time Shinja made it home first, but not today), Orochimaru was quite sure he had the best cord in the world for his key. He'd unbraided it, added on all the beads, re-braided it, put the key back on, and had just enough time to admire it before he put it away. It was always risky to have pretty things around his father, so he figured it was safest to hide it.

His silver beads, the ones shaped like crescent moons with a ring on them, he didn't leave out in the open. Orochimaru hid them, the package still unopened, in the best hiding place he could think of: in the pocket of some old baby clothes in his closet that no one would touch. He had just finished hiding them when he heard the front door open, and ran out into the living room as if he'd been there all along when his father came in. "Hi," he said.

"Hello, Orochimaru." Dakatsu was carrying a suspicious-looking package. Big, brown, with little holes in the sides. Orochimaru eyed it apprehensively, especially when it started to move. "I got a present for you on the way home. To make up for your doll."

Poor Iwazaru-san. He hoped his monkey was happy, wherever he'd gone. "Is it another doll?" he asked.

"No, of course not," Dakatsu said, setting the box on the ground.

"Good," Orochimaru said. He didn't want anything to replace Iwazaru-san; it would be disrespectful.

His father gave him an approving look, and said, "I got it from the pet shop. I think it's a step up from a doll. Maybe you'll mature a bit, taking care of this."

The box rattled, and Orochimaru took a step back, eyes wide. "Daddy?"

"It's fine. This is a Yashagoro tradition," Dakatsu said. He crouched down, pulled out a kunai, and started cutting through the tape on the box. "Now, we'll get you a glass terrarium to keep it in, but you're going to get used to holding it, as well. We can't let you be scared of your own pet. Understand?"

Orochimaru nodded, watching the box apprehensively.

Dakatsu opened the lid, and the thing inside hissed. Orochimaru took a careful step forward and peeked in.

"It's a Zimuguri, a burrowing ratsnake," Dakatsu explained. "Three feet long, and male. The largest they had."

The snake was a deep red, a burgundy, with dark brown stripes the color of charcoal smears. It was twisted around itself, writhing around in a large coil. For a long moment, Orochimaru couldn't see its head; finally, it poked out from beneath its coils, focused on him with beady black eyes, and flicked its tongue out.

"We'll see if we can't toughen you up yet, eh?" Dakatsu chuckled. "I think we can eventually get you to handle a... snake..."

Orochimaru realized later he must have given his father quite a shock, but he didn't care at the time. He stuck his arm into the box to poke his hand between the snake's coils. At first it pulled away from him, but then it coiled around his hand and up his wrist.

"Do you like it?" his father asked, astonishment on his voice.

Orochimaru nodded enthusiastically. He reached in to try to pull the snake out with his loose hand and, not having much success, simply pushed the box onto its side and sat down so his snake could crawl out and onto his lap. "I like him," he said fervently. He loved him.

"Well." Pleasant surprise tinged his tone. "I'm proud of you, son. You're growing up fast."

He nodded absently, distracted by the snake on his lap. He held his free hand in front of the snake's face, and the snake flicked his tongue out to taste Orochimaru's fingertips, and then looked up at him with those little beady black eyes again. He named his snake Zimu-san, and decided it was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen in his life.

He didn't tell his father that, though. When his father asked what he was going to do with Zimu-san, Orochimaru lied and said he was going to train him to attack rats. But in secret, Zimu-san had just become the bodyguard and closest confidant to the princess of the Hidden Spider Village and the Crocodile Village warlord's kidnapped bride, Orochimaru-hime.

* * *


	4. Girl Power

A/N: Thank you for all your reviews! Special thanks to the C2s that have added this fic: Interesting Naruto fics, Juvenile Delinquency, and Mai Faivoiraites.

Some people have mentioned that in canon, Orochimaru's parents died when he was young. I'd like to say that this is _not_ an alternate reality fic. At this point, Orochimaru is four years old, which means he is still very young. Just because his parents haven't died yet doesn't mean they won't. In fact, they probably don't have very much time left at all.

Whee, I'm posting this chapter from school. I wonder if that's allowed.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or the characters from it; I own a few OCs and this fic. The quote below is paraphrased from the book _She's Not the Man I Married_ by Helen Boyd, a book which I recommend to everyone in the universe.

* * *

Chapter IV

Girl Power

* * *

_She hated any weakness of her own, and she didn't encourage weakness in other girls. She, like so many women, treats men something like children—entertaining to have around but not necessarily competent. It's the women who put the meals on the table and wipe the children's faces and make the dish of Swedish meatballs for the woman down the block who just lost her husband._ – Helen Boyd

* * *

Konoha in mid-August was oppressively hot. The air was thick with heat and moisture, and the mosquitoes and flies swarmed dizzily in the muggy air of the forest. Inside the village itself, the bug population was kept at a manageable level, but the atmosphere wasn't much more pleasant.

It was the first day of school, which meant the streets were emptier than usual during the day. Orochimaru had found a ladder that led to the roof of a low shop and was sitting there, legs dangling over the side, watching people go by below.

He wasn't scared of falling. His reflexes hadn't failed him yet, and in any case, he had Zimu-san to watch out for him now. The snake had curled its way up the ladder alongside Orochimaru and was now wrapped loosely around his waist and left wrist.

"We'll feed you before lunch, okay?" Orochimaru said. "Then we'll have some money." Dakatsu expected Orochimaru to be able to feed Zimu-san himself, so he didn't provide him with the money to buy feeder mice. Instead, Orochimaru took Zimu-san to restaurants in the bad parts of town and offered to let him eat any rats that were running around in the shop for 1000 ryou. He used to charge 500 ryou, until he realized that he wasn't getting much money that way. Even so, he was still the cheapest form of pest control in Konoha.

"Where should we go?" Orochimaru asked Zimu-san. "We haven't been in the east district since last week." The east district was generally known as the poorest part of Konoha, and they were immensely grateful to have someone take care of the vermin for such a low price. He felt a little guilty taking advantage of them, since he needed to feed Zimu-san anyway and technically could have gotten rid of the rats for free.

The snake bobbed its head up and down, a nod, so Orochimaru stood up and prepared to go down the ladder. But before he could, someone on the ground yelled, "Hey you!"

He glanced down. Beneath him, the kid with white hair was looking up at him, and several other people were looking oddly at the kid. Jiraiya, that was his name.

Orochimaru backed away from the edge of the roof to keep Jiraiya from seeing up his kimono. "What is it?"

"You're the guy who took the pictures for my sis, right?" Jiraiya yelled. "What are you doing up there? Get down here!"

"No!" Orochimaru yelled back. He didn't know what Jiraiya would do to him. "What do you want?"

"I was gonna say thanks!" Jiraiya said angrily. "Come on, I wanna show you something."

Orochimaru glanced at Zimu-san, and the snake hissed threateningly. He would guard his master. "Okay," Orochimaru said, "I'll come down."

He grabbed the sides of the ladder, careful not to actually wrap his fingers all the way around the side, and slid down in a matter of seconds. He stumbled off at the bottom, lost his balance, and would have fallen if Jiraiya hadn't caught him.

Oh, this was actually kind of nice, Orochimaru thought. It was like when he saw older boys and girls hugging each other. Romance. And Jiraiya would be the boy and Orochimaru would be the...

His father's lessons kicked in, and Orochimaru shoved Jiraiya away from him, muttering, "Get off me."

Jiraiya didn't seem to notice. "That was cool!" he said. "How did you do that? You've gotta show me."

"Uh..." Orochimaru looked up the ladder. Come to think of it, how had he done that? "I don't..."

"Oh, right. I gotta show you... Okay, c'mon." He grabbed Orochimaru's hand and started running, tugging him along. "The Ninja Academy entrance ceremony is today. I wanna show you my sister!"

"Why?" Orochimaru asked. "Is she a student?"

"Nope! Even better!" Jiraiya said proudly.

They ran together all the way to the Ninja Academy.

* * *

There was a wide brick wall around the Ninja Academy, but Jiraiya showed Orochimaru how to scale it, and they both sat on top, watching the entrance ceremony on the grounds behind the school. The rows of new students were in the front, with the older students behind. The teachers were lined up in the front, with the two Hokage standing on a wooden platform, speaking to the new students and their parents.

"That's Goketsu Kokona, my big sis," Jiraiya whispered, pointing at the teachers. "She's a chuunin." He said it as proudly as if a chuunin outranked a Hokage.

Out of the seven teachers, there were only two females, and Orochimaru figured the one with white hair and red face markings was Jiraiya's sister. Her hair was pulled back tight in a ponytail, but beneath where it was tied, it flared out in spikes as wild as Jiraiya's. Her red face markings, rather than descending from her eyes like Jiraiya's, spiked upwards, over her eyelids and eyebrows, and were heading towards her hairline.

What Orochimaru took the greatest notice of, though, was the fact that Kokona was quite possibly the curviest female he had ever seen in his life. Several of the male teachers, throwing sideways glances at her, seemed to see it, too. However, while Orochimaru's gaze was simply admiring, theirs were decidedly more imaginative. Such as imagining her without her green vest on.

"She's pretty," Orochimaru said.

"She's the prettiest babe in Konoha!" Jiraiya said, and Orochimaru felt a pang of envy towards Kokona. "She's the toughest, too. Nee-san may like looking at guys, but she doesn't take any crap from them."

Wait, something about that sounded odd. Father always told Orochimaru to act tougher, to act like a boy. Kokona didn't look boyish. "She can't be tough," he said. "She's a girl."

Jiraiya glared at Orochimaru. "What makes you think girls can't be tough?" he said.

"Daddy said so," he said. "He said that you have to act like a big boy if you want to be tough."

"Well, that's true," Jiraiya said, shrugging. "But there's more than one way to be tough."

"Really?" Orochimaru said.

"Yeah. See, if you wanna be tough like a boy," Jiraiya said, "you gotta be stronger than the other boys. But if you wanna be tough like a girl, you gotta be smart enough to get the boys to do what you want."

Orochimaru stared at him, then looked at Kokona thoughtfully.

More than one way to be tough? He hadn't heard of that before. His father had never mentioned it. Was that true? Could he be tough, make his father happy, without having to be like the other boys?

Without, he wondered, looking at Kokona, even having to be a boy at all?

Below, the parents standing behind the students applauded as the two Hokage stepped back and another man stepped forward to speak. They couldn't hear the voices from their vantage point, but they could see the speaker. He looked familiar.

"Oh great," Jiraiya grumbled. "Sarutobi again."

It was the guy they'd run into the first time Orochimaru had met Jiraiya. "Why's he here?" he asked.

"He's officially the Third Hokage," Jiraiya said, "but he doesn't do anything yet. The First and Second are still training him. I guess he gets to make a speech too."

They watched Sarutobi speak for a while, though Orochimaru was usually glancing over at Jiraiya's sister in envy. Why couldn't he be like her? Maybe if he asked his parents, and explained to them what Jiraiya had said, about how there was a way to be tough like a boy or like a girl...

He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice, for a moment, that something was missing. When he did, he leaped to his feet, turning around frantically, looking all around the brick wall and on both sides of it.

"What's wrong?" Jiraiya asked.

"Zimu-san is missing!" Orochimaru said.

"Who?"

"My snake!" What if he'd gotten lost, or been kidnapped, or was hurt, or...

Jiraiya looked up. His eyes widened, and he pointed. "That snake?"

Orochimaru turned in the direction he was pointed. Slithering behind the wooden platform where the Third Hokage was speaking, Zimu-san was making his leisurely way towards the First and Second. Orochimaru gasped. "I've gotta get him!" he said. He leaped over Jiraiya's lap (hopefully Jiraiya hadn't gotten a look up his kimono), ran down the brick wall, and stopped where he could jump down and run straight towards Zimu-san without getting in front of the audience. He sat on the edge of the wall, jumped down, and landed on all four on the ground. His hands would be a little scratched, but he could worry about that later.

"Hey! Oroji-whatever!" Jiraiya hissed in a loud whisper. "What are you doing?" He scrambled down the wall, fell hard on his right side, and staggered back to his feet, favoring his left leg and leaning against the brick wall. "You're gonna get in trouble!"

Orochimaru ignored him, determined to reach Zimu-san. He hardly noticed that Sarutobi had stopped speaking. He lunged for his snake's tail, missed, and tripped. Zimu-san slithered just beyond his reach as he fell to the ground. Now he'd probably try to eat the First and Second, and they'd tell Orochimaru's father that he hadn't been tough enough to stop his snake...

"Hey! Watch it!"

Orochimaru looked up. Zimu-san had stopped abruptly, head lifted off the ground and pulled back in surprise.

Standing in front of him was a girl about his age with a ragged blond ponytail. Her arms were planted firmly on her hips, and her face was set in an expression of steely determination as she glared Zimu-san down. "Go away, worm! Leave Grandpa and Uncle alone!" The First and Second were standing behind her, watching in amusement.

Orochimaru stumbled to his feet and ran up to the girl. Zimu-san moved back to cower behind him. "Zimu-san isn't a worm," he protested. "He's a burrowing ratsnake!"

"Same thing," the girl said. "He's just a big worm, isn't he?"

"No, he's not!" Orochimaru said. He put his hands on his hips the way the girl was doing. "What do you know, anyway?"

"I know a lot more about invertebrates than you do, obviously," she said haughtily.

Orochimaru wish he knew what an invertebrate was. "Well, I guess you don't, or you would know what a snake is!"

"Oh, and I guess you're so smart!" the girl said. "Fine, smarty! Name five different kinds of slugs!"

"Um..." Orochimaru stared at the girl hopelessly. "What does that have to do with snakes?"

The First Hokage put his hand on the girl's head and said, "Tsunade? I hate to tell you this, but she's right. That is a snake. And, uh, snakes aren't invertebrates."

"They aren't?" Tsunade said.

The First chuckled. "I'm afraid not." He looked at Orochimaru. "What are you doing up here? Are you a new student?"

"Um, no..." Orochimaru took a step back, lowering his eyes.

"Hiroki, look at her eyes," the Second said quietly. "I think she's Yashagoro Dakatsu-san's child."

"Really?" the First murmured. "But wasn't Dakatsu-san's child a boy?"

Orochimaru saw Sarutobi jump off the wooden platform he'd been standing on, and look quizzically at the First and Second. "Hiroki-sensei? Ozora-sensei? What's the problem?"

"Nothing to worry about, Sarutobi-kun," the First said. He smiled down at Orochimaru. "It seems that someone lost control of their pet."

Sarutobi frowned. "Orochimaru-kun? What are you doing here?"

"So that's a boy," the Second murmured.

"I..." He took another step away from the adults, and Zimu-san slithered back with him. "Uh..."

"Hey, leave him alone!" Jiraiya ran up, still limping slightly, and stood defensively in front of Orochimaru, arms crossed. "He's with me. Got it?" He gave the three Hokage and Tsunade a challenging glare.

"Jiraiya! What are you doing here?" Kokona had joined the group, and was now pushing past the First and Second to reach her brother. "I thought you said you'd stay at home!" She had her arms crossed under her bosom and was giving Jiraiya a very annoyed look.

"Oh, right." Jiraiya glanced around at the other adults helplessly, and then swallowed nervously. "Hi, aneki."

"Hi, otouto." Her voice was steely. She turned to the Hokage, bowed to them, and said, "Please excuse me. I've got to take care of my brother."

"That's all right, Kokona-san," the First said, smiling amusedly. Sarutobi was looking at Kokona, Jiraiya, and Orochimaru with something close to exasperation.

"Come on." She grabbed Jiraiya's hand, he grabbed Orochimaru's sleeve, Orochimaru got an arm around Zimu-san, and all four went into the school building.

* * *

Orochimaru had never been inside the school before. It was empty right now, but even so, it didn't look nearly as scary as he'd thought it would. In his imagination, school, the place where he would learn to be a ninja, to fight and kill, was a dungeon full of torture instruments. He was relieved to see that it was rather boring after all.

However, he didn't get a good look at it. It was all he and Jiraiya could do to keep up with Kokona's brisk pace. Finally, she stopped in front of a door, slid it open, and said. "In. Sit."

He and Jiraiya immediately obeyed, ignoring the school desks and plopping down on the floor. Zimu-san curled up around Orochimaru's waist and rested his head in his lap. Kokona shut the door behind them and stood above them, scowling. "What do you think you're doing here?"

Before Orochimaru could try to explain, Jiraiya said, "I was just watching! We were up on the wall, 'cause I wanted to show him who you were..."

"Don't blame this on him," Kokona said, nodding sharply towards Orochimaru. "I know when you're the one who's causing trouble, otouto."

"I wasn't blaming him!" Jiraiya protested. "We weren't doing anything! We weren't even on the ground, but then his snake escaped and he chased it, and I followed him, and—"

"Jiraiya!" Kokona snapped, and he immediately fell silent. "You can just save all your explanations, got it? Fact is, you were the one who was on the wall, and you weren't supposed to be there. You know that!"

"But—"

"Jiraiya..." she started threateningly.

"Yes, ma'am," Jiraiya said quickly.

"Good. And you'd better not do it again."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is that a promise?"

"Yes, ma'am. I promise."

"Do you mean it this time?"

Jiraiya nodded enthusiastically.

"You'd better." She looked at Orochimaru, and he flinched. "Now then, what's your name?"

"Yashagoro Orochimaru," he said in a very quiet voice.

"Oh, you're Shinja-sensei's child?" Her voice was pleasant now. "She trained my team, until I became a chuunin and decided to be a teacher." She crouched down to look closer at Orochimaru. "I should have recognized it. You've got your mother's face, you know."

Orochimaru was speechless. This was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him. It took him a moment to realize he was staring before he said, all in a rush, "Thank you, Kokona-san!"

"It's nothing." She stood up, and said, "Try to keep Jiraiya out of trouble, why don't you? I don't want it getting around that my little brother is a trouble-maker."

"You're a bigger trouble-maker than me," Jiraiya grumbled.

"That's different," she said coolly. She slid open the door and said, "All right, you two. Get outta here."

Jiraiya and Orochimaru immediately obeyed. They leaped to their feet and ran out of the room, with Zimu-san following, and they didn't stop running until they were outside and several blocks away from the school.

Once they were a safe distance away, Jiraiya slowed down and said, panting, "What... did I tell you? Isn't... isn't she cool?" He was grinning excitedly at Orochimaru.

Orochimaru nodded, still trying to catch his breath.

They were on a busy street, but Jiraiya sat down and leaned back against the brick wall of a restaurant, letting his legs sprawl out and making pedestrians swerve around him with a dirty look. Orochimaru sat beside him with his legs folded beneath himself and his kimono pulled down so it didn't expose anything.

"We're lucky we got away with our lives," Jiraiya said melodramatically. Orochimaru and Zimu-san nodded in agreement.

"Kokona-san's the toughest person I've ever met," Orochimaru said. With the limited memory of a four-year-old, he believed it, too.

Kokona certainly was tough. Tough enough to force Jiraiya, a boy, to obey her. Tough enough to become, as her brother so reverently said, a chuunin. Even though she was a girl.

She wasn't the only one. There was that other girl, Tsunade. It wasn't often Orochimaru ran into someone who could argue like that.

So it was true, what Jiraiya had said. If you wanted to be strong, it didn't matter if you were a boy or a girl.

Orochimaru had a plan.

* * *

When Orochimaru got home a little after five, he discovered that someone else had gotten home first. The light was on in his parents' bedroom, and he heard sounds from inside. He felt a twinge of fear in his stomach, and quickly took off his key with its beautiful cord. "Hide this," he whispered to Zimu-san and put the cord in the snake's mouth. Zimu-san slid away to hide the key, while Orochimaru carefully opened the door to his parents' room and peeked inside.

His mother was sitting in front of a mirror, carefully applying make-up. Orochimaru stared. Shinja almost never wore make-up, and it was a rare treat when she did. She always looked so beautiful.

"Mama?" Orochimaru said softly.

She glanced up, saw Orochimaru in the mirror, and smiled. "What are you doing there in the doorway? Come on in."

He ran into the room and immediately climbed into his mother's lap. She hugged him, and said, "I can't give you a kiss, I'm putting lipstick on."

"Okay," Orochimaru said, contented to sit and watch his mother put her make-up on. As far as he was concerned, she always looked nice, but she looked even nicer like this: her lips a deep red, light blush on her cheeks, eye shadow brushed on that almost made her eyelids look blue.

He remembered what Kokona had said – you've got your mother's face – and was proud to think that he could look like that, too. If he ever got to wear make-up, at least, which he wouldn't, because his father would never let him.

Which reminded him. He needed to speak to his parents. "Mama?" he said. "Can girls be as tough as boys?"

"Of course they can," his mother said. She was combing her hair, thick and dark brown. Usually she kept it in a ponytail, but apparently not today. "I've known quite a few girls who are tougher than the average man. I taught one of them for a while."

"That's Kokona-san, right?"

Shinja gave Orochimaru a surprised looks. "Yes, it is. How do you know her?"

"I met her today," Orochimaru said. "She's Jiraiya's older sister."

Shinja nodded. "I've seen Jiraiya once. He's about your age, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Orochimaru said.

So it was true, what Jiraiya had told him. It was possible to be tough and to be female at the same time. Orochimaru's father had been wrong; there was another option. He didn't have to be stuck like this forever, pretending to be just like all the other boys when he knew quite well that he wasn't. He didn't have to be trapped in this imperfect body.

He could change.

"Mama?" Orochimaru said. "When's Daddy getting home?"

"Oh, it should be soon," Shinja said. "Your father and I are going to a party tonight. The Akimichi family invited a few jounin over for dinner." That explained why she was getting prettied up.

Orochimaru sat on his mother's lap as she got ready, watching her and wondering what he would say when his father got home. At last, he faintly heard the front door open, and his father's footsteps.

"Daddy!" He jumped out of Shinja's lap and ran out of the room. He passed Zimu-san, curled up in the doorway of his own room, and said, "Come on!" Zimu-san uncurled and followed Orochimaru.

"Hello, Orochimaru," Dakatsu said, as his son came into the room. He grinned. "How was your day?"

"I've gotta tell you something!" Orochimaru said. His eyes were wide with excitement. Shinja came into the room, and shrugged at her husband's questioning glance.

"Well, what is it?" Dakatsu said.

Orochimaru paused, giving his parents a moment of suspense. And then, an elated smile stretching across his face, he made his announcement.

"I'm going to be a girl!"

* * *


	5. Dude Looks Like a Lady

A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews! Honestly, I never thought that a fic about Orochimaru (and as a transsexual, no less) would get so much love. Enjoy chapter five!

Disclaimer: The quote below is from the book _The Man Who Would Be Queen_, a controversial book that claims transsexualism is a kind of a fetish for men who get turned on by thinking of themselves as girls, or that it's a disorder. I make no comment, except that Orochimaru will run into some trouble due to this theory in years to come.

* * *

Chapter V

Dude Looks Like a Lady

* * *

_He is near the boundary of male and female, and one day he may cross it. If he does, one primary motive will be lust._ – J. Michael Bailey

* * *

Orochimaru hid under the covers of his bed, knees pulled so tightly to his chest that his legs and ribs ached, shivering with fear and fury and misery and utter self-loathing. He felt disgusting, disgraceful, a revolting aberration of nature that shouldn't exist.

Zimu-san was curled up outside the covers, wrapped in a loop around Orochimaru's lumpy form, protecting him from outsiders. When he'd tried to join his friend, to wrap himself around Orochimaru in a hug, the child had shoved him away, screaming through his tears that he didn't want to be touched, he didn't want anything to touch him ever again.

Outside, Dakatsu raged and Shinja pacified. He was screaming – no son of his, no _son_ of _his_, was going to be allowed to keep this foolishness up! How had he ever got such an idea into his head, such a... a demeaning, shameful... He would not let his only son disgrace the family! Not when he was going to be a proud warrior! An elite ninja!

Shinja tried to calm him; he doesn't know what he's saying, he's just a child, he's only four years old... please, don't be so harsh on him, this is just a phase. She was a tomboy at his age and she turned out fine, didn't she? Nothing would come of it... just let him get older... he'd grow out of it...

Orochimaru shuddered, and finally let out a sob, because he didn't understand _why_. He squeezed his eyes shut and let tears leak down his cheeks because he couldn't get why, _why_ he was so wrong, so evil, just because he wanted to be what half of the people he knew were – female. He didn't understand why it couldn't happen. He didn't understand. All he knew was that it wouldn't happen, would _never_ happen, and that he'd better get used to that right now, damn it.

_"But Daddy! I-I'm not lying! I really... I really am a girl! Please—"_

_"You are not, Orochimaru! We named you because you are not! Take off your clothes and go look in the mirror, that'll show you everything you need to see. You're a boy, and you always will be. That's not changing."_

_"I don't want to be! Please, just let me change! I want to so bad."_

_"No one gets what they want, Orochimaru. You can never just get what you want."_

_"Why?!"_

_"Because you have to be STRONG! You have to be able to fight to take what you want! And you are not strong, Orochimaru, or we wouldn't be having this conversation!"_

_"Daddy..."_

Orochimaru sniffed thickly and wiped his nose against his kimono sleeve, which was already stained with snot. There it was, out in the open. He wasn't strong. He wasn't tough. And he knew it was true. He didn't have what it took to be tough, either as a boy or a girl. As long as he didn't, he'd never be able to get what he wanted. He would never be allowed to be what he really was.

His father had stopped shouting, and now he was speaking softly with Shinja, his voice tense with checked rage. They were saying something about getting Orochimaru evaluated, looking for developmental blocks, checking to see how long a child would typically have a "phase" like this.

He didn't understand everything they were saying, but he had always been very intelligent, at least he thought he was, based on how many times his parents had been surprised when he'd known something or how often the few children he met were utterly confused by him. He knew what his parents were talking about. They wanted to know what was wrong with him. As always, he was doing something wrong. He sniffed again and rubbed the heels of his hands against his tear-stained eyes. What didn't he understand?

No one got what they wanted unless they were strong. Orochimaru was not strong. To become strong, he had to act like the thing he didn't want to be. So, by doing what he didn't want to do, he could get what he wanted?

"Zimu-san," Orochimaru said softly, his voice a high-pitched whimper. At the invitation, the snake quickly slithered beneath the sheets and blankets to his friend, eager to comfort Orochimaru. The child wrapped his arms around Zimu-san, the closest thing he had to a confidant, the only one who he knew, without a doubt, would listen to him, would value him, would need him to survive. Orochimaru needed someone to need him.

"You're still with me, aren't you?" he asked. "You... y-you don't think I'm... I'm... that there's something wrong with me?" He bit back a sob, and asked desperately, his voice cracking, "Y-you'll always stay with me, right?"

Zimu-san hissed reassuringly, curling more tightly around Orochimaru, trying to speak to him, to say "Yes, I will," but all that came out was a long "Yssssssss."

Orochimaru understood, and whispered, "Thank you." As long as Zimu-san was there, as long as there was someone who still loved Orochimaru unconditionally... she was whatever she wanted to be. As long as she could keep up the illusion, she was safe from the world.

The little girl fell asleep with dry tears still on her face and Zimu-san in her arms, and had nightmares about waking up and discovering she was a boy.

When she finally did wake up and discover her nightmare hadn't gone away, he sighed and went to make his breakfast.

* * *

Orochimaru wasn't the only one in the kitchen. His parents were at the kitchen table, having breakfast. "Mama? Daddy? Why aren't you at work?" he asked nervously but trying not to sound nervous, afraid his father would start yelling at him again.

But Dakatsu only put on a tense smile. "We're going to get you looked at, Orochimaru. To... make sure you're okay."

Well, they didn't have to go anywhere to do that, Orochimaru thought. He knew quite well that he wasn't okay, but he didn't say anything. "Where are we going?"

"To visit a psychologist," Shinja said. "Do you know what a psychologist does?"

"Yes," Orochimaru said, frowning, which caused both his parents to raise their eyebrows in surprise.

"Do you really?" Dakatsu said, sounding pleased.

"Of course I do," Orochimaru said, as if every four-year-old should know what a psychologist does. "There's nothing wrong with my brain." It was his body that was wrong. But he couldn't say that much.

Shinja choked on her tea and had to set it down, covering her mouth. She looked suspiciously like she was laughing. At Dakatsu's sharp look, she said, "He's quite certain on this, isn't he?"

"We'll see," Dakatsu said, and turned back to Orochimaru. "We're going to visit the psychologist anyway, Orochimaru. Usually if there's something wrong with someone's mind, he doesn't know it himself."

Orochimaru hadn't heard that before. He figured all "wrong" things were apparent to the person who had them, like how you could tell if you had a cold or had hurt your foot. "Okay," he said softly.

"Have some breakfast," Shinja said. "We're leaving right after we eat. This was the only day your father and I could get off. Tomorrow, we've both got a patrol mission outside the village."

"Yes, Mama," Orochimaru said, and scrambled up into the seat next to her. Cereal. He didn't like cereal. He much preferred it when his parents were gone earlier and he could get his own breakfast.

No one gets what they want, Orochimaru thought, and reluctantly started eating.

The gloomy meal was the last time he ever had breakfast with his parents.

* * *

Orochimaru's mother and father took him to the Konoha hospital, another place he'd never been to before. He'd heard from the other kids that it was a scary place, even scarier than school, but it seemed pretty dull to him. He wondered if the other kids were just scaredy-cats.

They went inside until they reached a door that had a guard in front of it, a bored-looking woman with purple hair, probably in her early twenties. She was sitting at a desk and twirling a kunai around one finger. She glanced up, droned, "Name? Business?" and reluctantly let her kunai stop spinning and slide down so it dangled on her finger like a ring.

"Yashagoro Shinja, Dakatsu, and Orochimaru," Shinja said, holding Orochimaru in her arms. He glanced over the woman and decided she didn't look like she was particularly tough in the girl way, but could be plenty tough in the boy way. "We have an appointment with Dr. Yakushi Izanagi."

"Right-o," the woman said, barely glancing at the planner on her desk. "Through there." She proceeded to begin spinning her kunai again, and that was the end of the discussion.

"Thank you," Shinja said, and they proceeded through the doors and into an empty waiting room.

"These Yakushi don't have much security, do they?" Dakatsu said disapprovingly. "Anyone could get into the Yakushi Ward with her out there."

"Why would that be a problem, Dakatsu?" Shinja said. "They're here for us to reach, aren't they?"

"They're the most talented clan of medic-nin in Konoha!" he said. "Anyone could waltz in here and kill the lot of them."

"Dakatsu, this is a hospital," Shinja said, sighing. "And it's not like we're at war, anyway. These are peaceful times."

"Hmph. For now," Dakatsu muttered.

One of the doors leading from the waiting room opened, and a tall man with dark hair came out, smiling. "Hi. You must be the Yashagoro family. I'm Yakushi Izanagi."

"A pleasure," Shinja said, and Dakatsu nodded in greeting.

His eyes fell on Orochimaru, and he smiled. "And this must be little Orochimaru, right? I hear you don't like to be called a boy. Is that true?"

Orochimaru stared at the man, wondering how he'd found out. "Yes, sir," he said softly.

"I see. Well, I can already tell you're a smart little kid," he said.

Orochimaru managed to smile at that. "Thanks."

Izanagi looked at Shinja and Dakatsu and said, "I hate to ask this, but do you think you could leave Orochimaru-kun outside? Little kids distract from meetings like these."

"Oh... you don't want to talk to him, Yakushi-san?" Shinja asked.

"I tend to find that the parents are a bit more eloquent in explaining their problems, Shinja-san," Izanagi said. "If that's all right with you, that is. Will he be all right by himself?"

"Oh, of course. He's very well behaved," Shinja said, and set Orochimaru on the floor. "You can stay in this room and not get in trouble while we talk, can't you?"

"Yes, Mama," Orochimaru said. He never wanted to cause trouble.

"Thank you," she said, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Shall we?" Dakatsu asked as Shinja straightened up.

"Let's," Izanagi said, and ushered them into his office. "You said on the phone that he's almost five, didn't you? Just a year under my own. Orochimaru will be starting school next year, I expect...?"

The door shut, and Orochimaru was left in the waiting room. For a while, he walked in circles, observing the room. When he got bored with that, he sat in a chair and tried to wait without moving.

He found a clock and tried to teach himself how it worked. Adults thought clocks were very important. After a long stretch of study, he discovered that when the skinny, fast hand went around the clock five times, the long hand made it from one number to the next – from the big 11 to the 12, and from the 12 to the 1, and so on. He wondered why they didn't just make the clocks so that it would move a number every time the skinny hand made a circle, but maybe it was important that it had to go around five times.

As far as he could tell, the short hand didn't move at all, unless you ignored it for a very long time. Then, the next time you looked, it would be somewhere new. He couldn't make sense of it at all. Maybe when the long hand moved around five times, it made the short hand move.

The short hand had mysteriously moved from wherever it was originally to between the 11 and the 12 when the door leading to the rest of the hospital opened and someone came in. Orochimaru twisted around to look.

Another kid, a little taller than Orochimaru, came in, checked the door that Izanagi had gone through, turned to Orochimaru, and smiled. "Hi. Who are you?"

Orochimaru stared at the kid. It looked like a boy – a lot like a boy – but it was wearing a butterfly-shaped barrette in its dark brown hair and a pink jumper. Before he could think twice, he asked, "What are you?"

The kid gave Orochimaru a weird look. "Whaddayou mean? I'm a medic-nin."

"Oh. Really?" Orochimaru had thought one had to be older to be any kind of ninja, medic or otherwise.

"Well, I'm gonna be someday."

"Okay. So you're a girl," Orochimaru said.

"No, of course not." The kid glared at Orochimaru, half in confusion and half resentment.

"But I thought only girls are medic-nin."

"Most of the time, I guess. You've gotta be either a Yakushi or a girl. I'm a Yakushi," the kid said, still eyeing Orochimaru warily. A boy, then. "So what are you?"

"What?" Orochimaru said, taken aback. Was he just trying to be mean now?

The boy in girl's clothing eyed Orochimaru carefully, circling his chair as he spoke and making Orochimaru keep turning his head to look at him. "You're either a girly boy or a butch girl," he said, glancing at Orochimaru's now chin-length hair and androgynous kimono. "And I bet most boys don't know about medic-nin. So, are you a girl?"

It would be so easy to say yes, and to have this boy believe him. But as Orochimaru opened his mouth, something else inside him closed, and his father's words came out. "No," he said softly, ashamed of himself. "I'm a boy."

The boy grinned. "So you're just like me!" he said gleefully. "I'm a girly boy too."

Between the barrette and the jumper, Orochimaru hardly needed to be told that. Still, he couldn't help but smile back, attracted to this boy and his excitement and somehow comforted by the idea that they had this something in common, that though they both were physically boys there was something in them that made them part girl. "Do you want to be a girl someday, too?" Orochimaru asked quietly.

"Yeah, that'd be fun for a while," the boy said, shrugging.

That was all he had to say, and Orochimaru knew he didn't understand.

"What's your name?" the boy asked. "I'm Yakushi Susano'o."

"I'm Yashagoro Orochimaru."

"You're not in school, right?" Susano'o said. "This is my first year." He glanced at the clock.

"No, I start next yea—"

"Aw, nuts," Susano'o said. "I've gotta get back! Lunch is almost over."

"Why? How do you know?" Orochimaru asked, glancing at the clock as well. It didn't make any sense to him.

"Lunch ends when the long hand is pointing at the six," Susano'o said. It was at the five then. "I've gotta go back before class starts."

He ran to the door. "Nice to meetcha!" he said, opening the door. "I'll see you later, Orochimaru-chan!" It shut, and Susano'o was gone.

No one had ever called him "chan" before. Orochimaru stared at the door long after Susano'o had left, hoping and half-believing he would come back so Orochimaru could ask him what he'd meant.

Thirty minutes later (not that he could tell the time) he was idly watching the clock, deep in thought, when Yakushi Izanagi came out with Orochimaru's parents and said that for now, the Yashagoro family could go out to lunch, but later Orochimaru needed to do some tests, too.

"I'm surprised my son didn't come by," Izanagi said, glancing at the clock – it certainly was an important device today. "He said he'd come here to eat lunch during school. Did you see him?" he asked Orochimaru. He shook his head.

"Well, maybe he found someone else to eat with," Izanagi said, frowning worriedly.

"Does he usually forget to do things like that?" Shinja asked, picking Orochimaru up.

"No, no. He's just a bit odd," Izanagi said. He managed to smile, and said, "Really, you don't need to worry about him. He's my son, after all. It's just a phase he's going through."

"I see," Dakatsu said. "We know what that's like." He ruffled his son's hair affectionately. Orochimaru thought with horror that his hair must look an utter mess now.

During lunch, Dakatsu had to tell Orochimaru five times to stop smoothing his hair down, until he asked to go to the restroom and fix it – he told his father he wanted to use the toilet all by himself, which pleased him. Orochimaru didn't even mind having to avoid looking at all the urinals now that he could fix his hair, which actually wasn't messed up at all.

As he looked at his reflection, a man came up to wash his hands at the sink beside Orochimaru. "I think you're in the wrong restroom," he said.

For a moment, a warm glow lit up inside Orochimaru, but it was quickly doused: what would Daddy think? He couldn't bring himself to say anything, neither "Thank you," nor "No, I'm a boy." So he just ran out of the restroom without a word.

As Orochimaru walked back to his parents, he messed up his hair with his hands so that it looked as boyish as possible.

* * *

Izanagi's tests were very easy after all. All Orochimaru had to do was look at the pictures the psychologist held up, which were weird black ink blobs, and say what they looked like. Orochimaru saw something every time, but sometimes he saw two or three things, so he always said whichever one he liked more. He hoped he'd pass the test anyway.

"What about this one?" Izanagi asked, holding up a picture.

"A snake," Orochimaru said. "One of the ones with the wide necks." He held up his hands next to his neck to pantomime a cobra's hood.

"All right." He put down the picture and held up another one. This one looked like two squiggles crossing each other. "How about this one?"

"A caduceus," Orochimaru said.

Izanagi gave him a blank look. "You know what a caduceus is?"

"Yeah. It's a stick with two snakes wrapped around it," he said.

"Er, yes. Very good," Izanagi said. He held up another picture. It was a rough circle. "What do you see in this one?"

"An Ouroboros," Orochimaru said.

Izanagi gave him an even blanker look. "A what?"

"It's a snake that eats its own tail," Orochimaru said, pointing at two whitish spots in the ink at the top of the circle. "See? Those are its eyes."

"Is that so?" Izanagi set the picture down and started writing on a notepad. "Your son is quite interested in snakes, Dakatsu-san," he said.

"Yes, he has a pet," Dakatsu said.

"Even so... seeing caducei, Ouroboroses... Highly symbolic in psychoanalysis" Izanagi finished his notes and looked up. "I think your son might be masculine than you think," he said with a smile.

"Really?" Shinja said doubtfully. "It sounds to me as if he's just widely read."

"Can he read yet?" Izanagi asked.

"No," Dakatsu said.

Actually, Orochimaru could, but he wasn't going to contradict his father on that. He might be forbidden from reading, too.

"From my research, I've found that snakes are a very common symbol for the male anatomy," Izanagi said. "And the fact that Orochimaru-kun sees so many symbols of them suggests that his more masculine tendencies are being stored up somewhere in his unconscious."

Shinja looked doubtful, but Dakatsu said, "What do we do about him, then? Can we, er, bring it back out?"

"Just give him time. When he's good and ready, he'll become exactly what he's supposed to be," Izanagi said. With a glance at Orochimaru, he said, "Could I speak to you two in private, please?"

"Sure, sure," Dakatsu said cheerily, picking up Orochimaru and carrying him outside. "Be good, all right?"

"Yes, Daddy," Orochimaru said. When the door into Izanagi's office had shut again and Orochimaru was by himself, he found a small table with some magazines, picked up one called Neuroscience Ninjutsu Weekly, and took it back to his chair to attempt to read the big words.

He hoped Izanagi was right. He hoped that someday he would become what he was supposed to be, because he couldn't keep living like this.

* * *


	6. Mirror Mirror on the Wall

A/N: It took me two months to get this updated. I am very, very sorry. On the other hand, I'm pretty darn proud of this chapter. I hope you enjoy it too! (Just remember, I promised that this fic would be following canon as much as possible!)

Completely random, but you know what gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling? When someone gives me a review saying "update soon!" just a few hours before I'm going to post the newest chapter. Hi there!

* * *

Chapter VI

Mirror Mirror on the Wall

* * *

_I cross-dressed all the time when I was little. I played dress-up with my grandmother's old clothes that my sister and I had in our play area. Now I felt like I was doing something incredibly wrong._ – Madeline H. Wyndzen

* * *

When Orochimaru's parents emerged from the doctor's office and told Orochimaru they were going home now, Dakatsu looked unusually pleased and Shinja looked annoyed. Orochimaru wondered what had happened in there.

On the way out of the Yakushi Ward, the woman at the desk stopped them. "Hey, wait a sec, I've got a note I'm supposed to give someone," she said. One arm propped up her chin and the other lazily held out a paper. It was a piece of blue stationary off of a pad on the woman's desk, with a printed header at the top that said "Mitarashi Kinako – Chuunin – Yakushi Ward Assistant." Below was scrawled the name "Susano'o" and a phone number. Orochimaru leaned over to look.

"I'm supposed to give this to a 'girly boy,'" she said, face set in an expression that said she was quite aware how strange the message was but couldn't bring herself to care. "Izzat you?" She looked at Orochimaru, one eyebrow cocked.

"No, it isn't," Dakatsu said sharply. The pleased expression had vanished. He took Orochimaru out of Shinja's arms to keep him from looking at the paper and set him on the ground. Squeezing his hand, Dakatsu pulled Orochimaru along so fast he almost couldn't keep up.

Kinako watched them go, and shrugged. "Sorry, my bad," she muttered to herself. "Guess that was a girl." She laid the paper aside to wait for the next "girly boy" she saw.

"Daddy, slow down," Orochimaru said, tripping and almost falling to one knee before he could stumble back to his feet.

"Learn to keep up," Dakatsu snapped.

"Dakatsu, stop that! You're going to make him fall," Shinja said angrily.

Dakatsu stopped so fast that Orochimaru almost jerked out of his grip, still running. "I'm just walking," he said tightly. "If he falls, it's his own fault. He can run."

"Listen to what you're saying! How is it possibly his fault? You are _not_ walking, Dakatsu, _I_ can hardly keep up with you!" Shinja said. "Don't be a fool. It wouldn't hurt you to consider that maybe Orochimaru isn't exactly the same as you, and that doesn't always mean he's done something wrong!"

Dakatsu and Shinja glared at each other a long moment, and Orochimaru realized that, perhaps, this fight wasn't completely about whether or not Dakatsu was running too fast for Orochimaru to keep up. This was some strange adult matter that Orochimaru had no way of understanding. He could see his mother's face, the fury in her eyes, directed straight at Dakatsu. Even though she sounded like she was fighting for Orochimaru, she didn't even look at him.

Orochimaru couldn't see his father's face, his father's cold snake eyes. He was glad.

"Are you suggesting that I did something wrong?" Dakatsu asked. His voice was trembling with controlled anger – and something else. Fear.

That was when Orochimaru figured out the real reason for this fight. It was over whether or not Orochimaru was a girl – no, over whether or not Dakatsu had caused something to go wrong in Orochimaru.

"No, Dakatsu, of course not!" Shinja said. "Nobody did anything wrong, Orochimaru's just—"

"Daddy!" Orochimaru said, loud enough that Shinja looked at him in surprise. He had to stop this fight. He didn't care who was right, he just wanted his father to be happy again. "It's okay. I can keep up now."

Dakatsu gave him a confused look, as if he didn't remember what Orochimaru was talking about. "You can...? Oh, yes. And why is it different _now_, Orochimaru?"

"Because..." Orochimaru swallowed hard and said, miserably, "I can handle it. I'm tough enough."

"That's right. Of course you are." Dakatsu gave Shinja a triumphant look. She watched with tight lips as Dakatsu started walking again.

This time, Orochimaru really could keep up. Dakatsu had started walking slower, just because Orochimaru had said he could walk faster. Why had that happened? He walked with his eyes on the ground, baffled, as he wondered where things had changed.

For a moment, Orochimaru had been strong. That was it.

There are two ways to be strong, and Orochimaru had been strong like a girl. Girls are strong by being smart enough to get others to do what they want, and somehow, Orochimaru had done just that. _He had been strong._

He was so distracted by his thoughts that he didn't notice when they left the hospital, and almost ran into the kid standing in front of him.

"Hey!"

Orochimaru started and looked up. Dakatsu had stopped, and was looking sharply at the kid.

It was Susano'o, still wearing his barrette and pink jumper. Since the last time Orochimaru had seen him, he'd added a bracelet – it was one of those pretty braided ribbon and bead bracelets that had inspired the lanyard for Orochimaru's house key – and three flowers drawn on one cheek with red and blue markers. He was wearing a backpack, so he'd apparently just come home from school.

Susano'o surveyed Orochimaru critically for a moment, then stated, "I think you're cute." He leaned forward and pecked Orochimaru on one cheek.

"I'll see you later!" Susano'o said, and ran past Orochimaru and into the building.

Orochimaru stood perfectly rigid. He'd seen a ninja melt into the ground once and wondered if he could do that right now, when Dakatsu said, "Orochimaru?"

"Yes, Daddy?" he said in a tiny voice.

"Do you know that child?"

"N-no," Orochimaru said.

"Hmm." To his surprise, Dakatsu laughed. "What do you know! Looks like you're a lady-killer already, Orochimaru."

"I don't kill ladies!" Orochimaru said, horrified.

"No, that's not what that means. It's a good thing," Dakatsu said.

"It... is?" It was good that Susano'o had kissed him? Orochimaru had gotten kissed by another boy, and it was a _good_ thing? He didn't have to think that it was wrong?

Orochimaru felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from his chest. It was okay to be kissed by another boy, just like a girl would be, it was okay, father had said so! Orochimaru smiled up at Dakatsu, who beamed back.

For once, Orochimaru wasn't wrong, Orochimaru wasn't evil, Orochimaru was acting like a girl... and even her father approved. She floated home on a cloud of elation.

As they walked, Dakatsu turned to Shinja and murmured, "Did you know that little girl?"

"The one in the pink jumper?" Shinja said. "No, I've never seen her in my life."

* * *

Orochimaru remained in her own little world all evening, her head floating somewhere far above Konoha with happiness. She was once again the Spider princess, the wife of a Crocodile lord, anything she wanted to be – and she had Susano'o to thank for that. She could tell that her parents had no idea what had her so happy, but she didn't care. Upon arriving at home, she went to her room to retrieve Zimu-san and her key and left again with only a shouted good-bye to Shinja and Dakatsu.

Orochimaru never saw her parents again.

"I'm gonna be a queen when I grow up," Orochimaru informed Zimu-san, as she walked and he slithered through Konoha's streets. "I can do that, right?"

Zimu-san bobbed his head up and down, relieved that Orochimaru's general outlook on life had improved so much from the night before. "Ysss." Yes. As far as Zimu-san was concerned, Orochimaru could do whatever he, she, or it wanted.

"No, I'm gonna do even better than that!" Orochimaru declared. "Daddy says I have to be a ninja, so I'm gonna be the Hokage!"

Now this was news. "Ssnn?"

"See," Orochimaru said, "I'm gonna be the first girl Hokage ever. Besides, you've got to be really tough to be Hokage, right?"

"Y... yesss."

"So, if I'm Hokage, I'll prove I'm really tough. And then Daddy will be happy, right?"

Well, that was one way to look at it. Zimu-san didn't think Orochimaru would really enjoy being a Hokage, but he was there to support her.

"Anyway," she continued, "the Hokage gets to decide what's right and wrong, so I can say that everyone can be what they want. That – that nobody's wrong or evil." That way, no one would have to live like Orochimaru had.

"Sss."

Orochimaru wanted to go find Jiraiya and tell him the news, that she was a girl now and always could be, but a warning siren went off, the low, slow siren that said there was some kind of suspicious activity outside the village but nothing worth getting worried about yet. Still, it meant that civilians were not supposed to be wandering around outside, just in case. Until Orochimaru became a genin, she was still a civilian. "Come on, Zimu-san," Orochimaru said. "We've gotta go home now."

"Yess." Zimu-san really needed to practice some new words, didn't he? Orochimaru hadn't even seemed to notice yet that he could (sorta) talk, although he was doing it for her.

He slithered near his master's side, guarding her from whatever threat lurked outside the village.

* * *

Orochimaru's parents were already gone by the time she got home, undoubtedly to see what the sirens were about. Orochimaru got dinner by herself, cup ramen that was a bit gummy because she either hadn't added enough water or had microwaved it a little too long. (It was hard to enter the correct time when she had to stand on her toes just to hit the top buttons.) She let Zimu-san outside to catch his own dinner; he hunted for mice and rodents in the narrow gaps on either side of and behind the Yashagoro house, between the house's blank grey walls and its neighbors.

As he hunted, he found a frog, an orange one about the size of Orochimaru's head. Zimu-san had never seen such a large frog before. He eagerly glided forward, coming up silently behind the frog, then reared back and opened his jaw wide to bite. Such a treat, this was the first time Zimu-san had caught a frog for dinner...

"Hey, you punk!" The frog whirled around and hit Zimu-san hard in the side of the head. Stars shot through his vision. "Brash little twit, who do you think you're tryin' to take a bite outta, huh? You got any idea who my brother is, punk? I don't think so!"

Zimu-san's jaw had been knocked apart, and he thrashed his head around a bit until he could re-hinge it. "Ssuh?"

"That's right, loser, Gamajiro is the name, and my big bro is Gamabunta! Not even you wanna tango with him, ain't that right?" the frog said. Zimu-san had no idea what the frog was talking about, and was still just trying to get used to the fact that this frog was so fluent in the human language. By now he could see straight again after the knock to his head, and he looked at the frog. Shocked, he realized that what had hit his head was the broad side of a miniature katana.

"And who do you think you are, huh? Punk?" Gamajiro shot.

Luckily, Zimu-san had practiced his name before. "Ssszzimmu-sssn," he managed.

Gamajiro gave him a blank look. "Come again?"

Zimu-san gave him an annoyed look.

"Oh. Oh, you ain't a summon, are you? Sorry, bud, I thought I was dealin' with a pro nin-hebi." He re-sheathed his katana. "Didn't realize you was a regular garden snake, punk. Shoulda figured there wouldn't be many nin-hebi outside a' Iwagakure."

Zimu-san hissed viciously enough that Gamajiro immediately said, "Okay, okay, you're not a garden snake! Sheesh. So, can you speak at all?"

"Yesss."

"Okay. So. I still need to know your name." Gamajiro tapped one webbed foot as he thought. "How 'bout this? We go one character at a time. That work?"

Zimu-san bobbed his head. "Sszzi..."

"Si?"

"_Zzi!_"

"Oh, okay, Zi. Go on."

"Mmmu..."

"Mu..."

"Sssssannn."

"San? Zimu-san?" Gamajiro frowned thoughtfully. "Eh, I'm not an honorific kind of guy. No point among animals, right? I'll just call you Zimu and you can call me Gamajiro. But, eh, don't strain yourself trying."

Zimu-san nodded.

"Oh, I gotta go," Gamajiro said. "Hey, do you know where Namikaze Tenka lives? Kokona-chan wants me to go take a picture of him." He held up a disposable camera.

Wasn't Kokona that scary girl who had scolded Jiraiya? Zimu-san nodded in answer to Gamajiro's question, and used his tail to point at the walls of one of the buildings they were between. Gamajiro hopped gleefully. "Ha, I knew he was around here! Thanks punk." He hurried away and around the side of the house to find a way in.

A _summoned_ frog. This was a day full of firsts for Zimu-san; the fist time he'd seen a frog like Gamajiro, the first time he'd ever met a summon. He slithered on his way to find a meal that wouldn't fight back, and caught two rats before it started drizzling and he decided to go home.

He should really practice speaking more, if he wanted to be as useful to Orochimaru as Gamajiro was to Kokona.

* * *

The rain finally started storming full out at about the same time that the sirens stopped, some time after the sun had fallen. Orochimaru went to sleep without waiting for her parents to come home, with Zimu-san curled up around her. Who knew how long they'd be gone?

She had nightmares that she couldn't remember about being something she wasn't, when something woke her up. The digital clock beside her bed said 4:36. All the time meant to her was that she wasn't supposed to make noise, so she wouldn't wake her parents.

At first, she thought that a high crack of thunder might have woken her up, but she didn't hear any more. It took her a long moment, sitting silently in her dark room, to realize what she'd heard; the terrifying wail of a new siren, screeching over the entire village. This wasn't the slow, low one to say that something suspicious was happening. This wasn't even the cautious whining siren to announce a confirmed sighting of enemy ninja. This was louder, harsher, one that Orochimaru had never heard in her life. She wouldn't get back to sleep with that going off. Now that she recognized it, she couldn't ignore it. At least she was too young to be scared of it.

Orochimaru got up, climbed over Zimu-san to keep from waking him, and tiptoed quietly, even though she couldn't be heard over the siren, to the door of her room and slowly opened it. Then she walked to her parent's room, and when she was only a few inches from it she could see that it had been left open. She sighed in relief, and flipped on the light switch. She wouldn't have to worry about being quiet if they were still gone. Orochimaru wandered into the room, wondering what her parents were doing, and then forgot about them completely when her mother's dressing table caught her eyes.

This was where her mother had gotten prettied up for that party... was it two days ago, now? With her long hair combed out and lipstick and blush and eye shadow, and Orochimaru had thought, maybe, someday, she could be that pretty too. Her parents hadn't actually gone to the party that night. That was probably her fault, she thought guiltily.

Something about the room looked strange. A combination of the strange hour, the phantom wailing, the alien tap of rain, made the entire room somehow changed, made it seem as though anything in it could change, too. Orochimaru wasn't poetic enough to consciously think all this; she just knew, without a doubt, that something about her mother and father's room tonight made everything possible.

Orochimaru walked up to the dressing table, pulled herself onto the chair, and leaned over the myriad of make-up and brushes and perfumes. Somewhere distant, she heard what her father had said to her when she had first said she was going to be a girl:

"_Take off your clothes and go look in the mirror, that'll show you everything you need to see. You're a boy, and you always will be. That's not changing._"

She ran one hand uncomfortably through her hair, which was only just barely past her chin by now. What if Dakatsu was right? Orochimaru's face in the mirror certainly didn't look female. Maybe a bit feminine, but not female. What if it was true, then, that Orochimaru could never change the fact that he was...

No. She could change. She'd already decided that, and now she'd prove it. She'd make the image in the reflection a girl, too, and that would be enough.

She grabbed up her mother's lipstick, and started with that, imitating what Shinja did, pursing her lips as she smeared the red make-up on, and then when she felt like she had enough, grabbing the pink blush, and then the eyeliner, the eye shadow, some nice-looking creams that she couldn't really recognize... Orochimaru grabbed a couple of necklaces from the top of the table and put them on, and then decided that maybe a little more lipstick couldn't hurt.

If she had checked her clock, she would have seen that it was well past five when she decided she was finished, and leaned back to survey her work. By now, she had to look exactly like a normal girl, didn't she? Just like...

Orochimaru stared at the face in the mirror with horror. Pasty white skin framed by hacked-off black hair, painted on like an ugly canvas, with red smears around the lips and almost neon pink splotches, dark blue-purple stains caked around the eyes, patchy brown and tan layers crusted over the skin from the skin creams. Orochimaru looked like a clown. Orochimaru looked like a monster. Orochimaru looked like a freak, an aberration, a horror. Orochimaru looked like nothing remotely female.

"_That'll show you everything you need to see. You're a boy and you always will be._"

He could never, ever change. It didn't matter if he had permission, it didn't matter how easy it seemed, how right it felt, how badly he wanted it. Orochimaru was, and always would be, male.

Orochimaru stumbled off the chair, fell hard and hit his elbow on the dressing table. He cradled it in his other hand and started sobbing, sending a muddy stream of make-up down his cheeks as he cried. He wanted to die. Daddy had been right all along. Why? Why not?! Why couldn't he change? If only Orochimaru knew, he could stop crying enough to tie all this up inside him, where he could keep it hidden and go about his life without tears. Boys don't cry, no matter how much it hurts.

If only he understood...

Daddy. Orochimaru forced his eyes open and pushed himself to his feet. He'd get in trouble if Dakatsu came back now and found him like this, futilely pretending to be a girl again. He rubbed his face, covered both hands with make-up. That wasn't good enough, Daddy would see through that.

Orochimaru ran out of the room, pulling at the pearl necklaces around his neck until the strings snapped and the pearls bounced away. He had to get this all off. In his bathroom he stood on his stool in front of his sink so he could see over the top, turned on the tap, and started scrubbing his face with the too-hot water.

Zimu-san was woken by the activity and slithered into the bathroom. "Orosssshi?" he questioned.

"Go away," Orochimaru whined. "I-I'm ugly."

What had brought _that_ on? Zimu-san got closer and lifted his head enough to peek at Orochimaru's face. He was a mess. "Ssn?"

"Go away!"

Reluctantly, Zimu-san lowered himself to the ground and backed away, but didn't leave. He couldn't abandon Orochimaru in this condition.

The make-up wasn't coming off. Orochimaru needed something stronger than just the water. He couldn't let anyone ever see him like this.

He jumped down from the stool, leaving the water running, and ran out of the room to get something. His mother always used it to remove stains, it would work now, too.

Zimu-san followed uneasily, wondering what Orochimaru could possibly be going to do now. He was acting almost psychotic, and Zimu-san was scared for him. He'd never seen Orochimaru act like this before.

Orochimaru ran into the utility room, snapped on the weak bulb, and Zimu-san hesitated a moment, wondering if he should go in or not. Orochimaru would definitely be mad, but, if anything happened to him because Zimu-san wasn't there to protect him...

Zimu-san slithered into the room, and for a moment, froze in terror. Orochimaru had climbed on top of the washing machine and grabbed a bottle of bleach, uncapped it, and was tilting it over his face, looking at it fearlessly with wide-open snake eyes.

Without thinking, Zimu-san lunged at Orochimaru, sank his fangs into the bottle, and jerked it out of his hands. He slithered out of the room as fast as possible with the bottle clenched in his jaws. The bitter poison started to seep around the holes his fangs had made in the bottle, and he resisted the urge to spit it out. He had to get this away from Orochimaru.

"Zimu-san?! Come back here!" Orochimaru leaped deftly off the washing machine, landed at a run and chased Zimu-san. He caught the snake's tail in the living room and held on tight. "I need that," he snarled, sounding much angrier than any child his age should. In the dark of the living room, his golden eyes glimmered through the blue shadows. For a moment, he couldn't see what he was doing, who he was hurting. He was merely calculating how to get what he wanted.

If Zimu-san hadn't been so worried about hurting Orochimaru, he could have easily whipped the child off and kept going, but he hesitated long enough for Orochimaru dive for the handle of the bleach bottle and grab it. "Give it back!"

Zimu-san couldn't say no, couldn't shake his head, so he only sunk his teeth in deeper. More bleach leaked into his mouth, and the sharp stench right under his nostrils was making him dizzy. He couldn't hold on much longer, he thought woozily, he couldn't let any more of the bleach in his mouth, or the chemical could kill him...

Orochimaru jerked the bleach bottle free, and didn't even notice that his only confidant had passed out on the floor. He tilted the bottle again over his face—there was only a little left, most had been spilled or leaked, but he thought it would still be enough to wash his face clean.

Before he could pour any of the bleach, the front door was forced open with a crack of broken wood. He jumped and dropped the bottle, and the last of he liquid soaked into the carpet. Too late, his father—

"Orochimaru-kun! Where—?" Someone flipped the living room light on. Half-blinded in the sudden bright lights, Orochimaru squinted at the invader. Sarutobi.

"Oh, my word, Orochimaru-kun," Sarutobi gasped. "What happened?"

"W-what?" Orochimaru asked pitifully. His face heated furiously in shame. He could see Sarutobi's expression, and he knew exactly what it meant; he was terrified of Orochimaru, because of what he'd done to his face.

The two Hokage followed shortly. "Kid, it's all right," the Second said quietly to Sarutobi, laying a hand on his shoulder. "It's just face paint."

Sarutobi's breath gushed out of him in relief. "It... oh, thank goodness. When I saw all that red..." He shuddered. "I've seen too much blood tonight."

He crouched in front of Orochimaru and reached out to wipe away some of the red lipstick, but Orochimaru swatted Sarutobi's hand and backed away.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded of the strange men, his three Hokage. "This is my house!" His eyes started watering again, but he fought the tears back. "If you don't leave, then I'll—" He spotted his snake. "Zimu-san?"

The First noticed as well and nudged his brother. "Ozora. See what's wrong with him." Orochimaru watched helplessly as the Second kneeled beside his snake and started examining the limp body for wounds.

Orochimaru was going to be in more trouble than he could possibly imagine, he knew that. He turned to Sarutobi. "Please," he begged, "don't tell Daddy about this." He wiped his eyes and his hands came back with a messy smear of eyeliner and eye shadow. "He'll punish me again if you tell him."

Sarutobi frowned. "Orochimaru-kun," he said sadly. "We came here to tell you something."

"Just don't tell Daddy!" Orochimaru insisted. "Please!"

"Orochimaru-kun, _listen,_" Sarutobi said.

Orochimaru nodded slightly. What was Sarutobi going to say? Did Dakatsu already know? He couldn't hold the tears back anymore as he listened.

"There was an attack on Konohagakure tonight," Sarutobi said. "We detected some suspicious activity yesterday evening and sent out jounin out to investigate, and when they found nothing, we assigned them to patrol the outer perimeter of the village. A little over an hour ago, the enemy attacked."

Orochimaru stood silently, crying and confused.

"Mist Village and Waterfall Village have declared war against Leaf. Sixteen of our finest are... are dead." Sarutobi swallowed hard, and placed a hand on Orochimaru's shoulder. "Orochimaru-kun, I'm so sorry. Yashagoro Dakatsu and Shinja... your father and mother gave their lives to protect our village."

Orochimaru almost stopped breathing. Now he understood. He stopped crying and stared blankly through Sarutobi.

Sarutobi cleared his throat thickly, and said, "They're dead, Orochimaru-kun. That means—"

"I know what death is, Sarutobi-san," Orochimaru said softly. Everything made sense now.

They were dead because of him. Orochimaru had lost his Mommy and his Daddy forever because of what he had done. This was his punishment: for trying to be happy, he had lost his parents, his family, his home...

Orochimaru shot a terrified look at Zimu-san's body. What if he lost him, too? Orochimaru would be alone. He would have nothing in the world. Nothing.

"Orochimaru-kun..." Sarutobi laid his hand on Orochimaru's shoulder, and this time he didn't push it away. He hardly noticed it. "You'll have to come with us," Sarutobi said, wiping some off the make-up off Orochimaru's face with one hand. "We need to find someone to take you in, at least for the next few days and then... a long-term guardian."

When Sarutobi stood up and offered Orochimaru his hand, he took it without thinking and numbly allowed himself to be led away from his home.

For the rest of his life Orochimaru would always feel, somewhere deep within his heart where not even adult reason and logic could pierce through, that he had killed the two people he loved most in all the world by daring to wish he was a girl.

* * *


End file.
